


A Forest Full of Pines

by sunkelles



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aromantic Wendy Corduroy, F/F, Female Friendship, Femslash, Halloween Costumes, Internalized Homophobia, Love Triangle, Pansexual Mabel Pines, Summerween, Teenage Pines Twins, drunk makeouts, one-sided pairing, teenage drinking, wicked the musical - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4958854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the summer before senior year and the Pines Twins are getting back to fighting monsters. Pacifica joins the team after a chance encounter and everything's fine until both twins fall for her.</p><p>Cue drama, humor, romance, angst, and MORE DRAMA</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

“Come on, Mabel,” Dipper says, “we need to keep moving.” Mabel quickly picks a few more of the iridescent flowers. Then she shoves them swiftly into her sparkly, rainbow backpack.

“Come on, Dip,” she says, “that Gorgon’s gonna be out here all night. I’ve never seen flowers that _glow_ before.” She says it as if flowers that glow are the most wonderful thing that she’s ever heard of, and Dipper rolls his eyes.

“Picking those flowers won’t keep her from turning more people into wood,” Dipper says. Mabel puts her backpack back on, and has to hurry to catch back up with him.

“What is it with monsters in this town turning people into wood?” Mabel says, “that doesn’t seem like a normal thing for monsters to do.”

“Gravity Falls is weird,” Dipper says. After five summers spent in the town, it’s the only clear answer he’s ever gotten. And that answer, of course, led to more questions.

“I’m just saying,” Mabel says, “that it doesn’t make sense.” Dipper spots a tall, green form in the distance and they quicken their pace to follow it. This whole hunt will be for nothing if they lose it now.

 

They come to a small clearing, and come upon someone sitting against a tree. Someone with platinum blonde hair and keen fashion sense. Her fancy purple outfit seems much too expensive for hiking through the woods in.

 “Hello!” Mabel shouts.

“Mabel,” Dipper mutters.  The girl turns around abruptly, and Dipper recognizes her. She has an extremely familiar face and bangs.

“Pacifica?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says, in confusion. Her eyes drift to Mabel, and recognition settles over her features.

“Oh,” Pacifica says, “the Pines twins?”

“Yup,” Mabel says with a lot of gusto, much more than Dipper thinks the situation merits. Pacifica’s not a bad person, really, but she’s not the nicest one either. He’s not nearly as excited to see her as Mabel is.

“Mabel and Dipper?” she asks.

“That’d be us,” Mabel says perkily. Dipper lets out a frustrated sigh. The gorgon’s going to get them all if they just stand her talking all day.

“What are you doing out in the middle of the woods?” he asks.

Pacifica looks him over, and turns the question back on him, “What are _you_ doing out in the middle of the woods?”

“We’re hunting a gorgon,” Mabel tells her.

“Mabel,” Dipper whispers.

“She needs to know what’s going on,” Mabel says. Pacifica sends him both a confused and irritated look, and Dipper lets out a frustrated groan. He kind of has to explain it now.  

“Remember the ghost at your manor?” Dipper asks.

“Of course,” Pacifica says. She looks insulted that he would even ask.

“This turns people to wood too,” Dipper says.

“Don’t gorgons turn people to stone?” Pacifica asks.

“Not in Gravity Falls,” Mabel says. Pacifica scrutinizes them.

“Do you two even have weapons?” she asks.

“I have a grappling hook,” Mabel says. Dipper groans. Mabel has a tendency to make them look unimpressive.

“You two are going to die,” Pacifica says. She actually sounds a little concerned about it. 

“Haven’t died yet,” Mabel says confidently. Dipper considers mentioning how often they’ve come close, but for some reason he doesn’t want Pacifica to know that.

“Do you have a plan?” she asks.

“We normally just chase things down and figure things out when we get there,” Dipper says, and then he almost kicks himself. Apparently, he’s also pretty good at making them look unimpressive. He spots the green form yet again, off in the distance, and his heart stops. And he realizes something: they’re not hunting it. It’s hunting them.

“How are you still alive?” she asks seriously.

“A lot of luck,” Mabel says, “and a _lot_ of Duct tape.”

“Are you going to help?” Dipper asks, “or are you just going to criticize us?” Pacifica rolls her eyes, and sends him a scathing look. Dipper takes a deep breath, and tries to calm himself down. He can already feel his panic growing.

“It’s stalking us,” Dipper says, and Mabel grimaces. She doesn’t look too surprised, though.

“Did you at least bring a mirror?” Pacifica asks.

“No,” Dipper says.

Pacifica sighs, and says, “I think that a phone would work then.”

“So are you helping?” Mabel asks. She looks around quickly, trying to find out where the gorgon is.

“I don’t have much choice,” Pacifica says. Dipper rolls his eyes, and starts walking. Pacifica takes out her phone, and holds it out as she walks.

“What are you doing?” he asks. It doesn’t seem like a very efficient plan to try to walk while looking through a screen.

“Look,” she says, “if there’s a gorgon on the loose, then I don’t really want to be turned into stone.”

“Wood,” Mabel corrects.

“Whatever,” she says, “if you don’t look it directly in the eyes, it can’t effect you, right?”

“Oh my god,” Dipper says, feeling really stupid that he didn’t think of something like that, “that’s genius.” He takes out his own phone, and starts walking while looking through the camera.

“Alright,” Pacifica says, “so now we won’t be turned into wood. Do we have any way to kill it?”

“You have to chop off a gorgon’s head to kill it,” Dipper says automatically. He read the journal entry on gorgons before leaving the Shack, and though it wasn’t all that helpful it did make that bit clear.

“Oh,” Mabel says, “Wendy’s dad has a shed close to here. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we borrowed an ax or two.”

“Or three,” Pacifica suggests.

“We are not stealing from the Corduroys,” Dipper says.

“Oh my god,” Pacifica says, “you want to go monster hunting without a weapon?”

“Alright,” Dipper says, “we can _borrow_ the axes.” Mabel takes out her phone as well, and she leads the way to the small shed. She picks the lock, and then they each grab an ax off of the wall. He has at least twelve, so Dipper doesn’t feel too bad about taking a few. Dipper holds out his phone in his left hand, and clutches the ax in his right as he exits the tiny shed.

 

He walks out into the clearing, and hears the rest of the group follow him.

“So what do we do now?” Pacifica asks.

“We should split up,” Dipper suggests.

“That is the worst plan that I have ever heard,” Pacifica tells him, in her superior valley girl voice.

“Just a little bit,” he says, “we’ll all start walking different directions.”

“That actually sounds like a really bad idea, Dip,” Mabel says. Dipper thinks for a moment, but he decides that if both of them think it’s a bad idea then he probably shouldn’t suggest it again.

“Alright,” he says, “so we don’t split up.”

“We should wait for it to come to us,” Mabel says.  
“That sounds reasonable,” Pacifica says. So they wait, and wait, and wait.  And then they wait some more, but the gorgon is nowhere in sight.

“I’m so bored,” Mabel says. She groans, and then she sits down in front of one of the many trees.

“What are you doing?” Dipper asks.

“Sitting down,” she says. Then, she starts fiddling with her phone and making faces into it.

“Are you taking selfies?” he asks. He briefly considers banging his head against the nearest tree.

“Kind of,” she says, “I’m snapchatting Candy and Grenda.”

“You’re snapchatting?” he asks. He almost thinks that’s worse.

“Yeah,” she says, “wanna get in here?” She makes a face and takes another selfie. She pauses for a moment, and then she makes her “idea face”.

“We could have an adventure team selfie,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“No,” Dipper says, “I’m going to keep watch to make sure we don’t, I don’t know, _die_.”

“Suit yourself,” Mabel says. Pacifica sits down beside Mabel.

“I want in these snaps,” she says. Mabel grins, and the two start taking crazy, adorable selfies and Dippers just groans. They’re all going to die. He clutches his ax tighter, because if the gorgon comes he will be the only thing standing between them and certain destruction.

 

They wait, and wait and wait. Dipper almost convinces himself that the gorgon was a figment of his imagination and that they can just head back to the Shack. Then, he’s pulled roughly out of his daydreams,

 

He hears hissing near his ear, and he quickly switches his camera to frontal view. The view in the camera makes it look like he’s taking a cute, friendly selfie with the hissing, many-eyed gorgon. Dipper screams high and loud as he flips the camera again and quickly turns around. The gorgon hisses, and Dipper can see its hideous face through his phone screen. Its many eyes glow red, and its snakes sway around from every direction on its head. They hiss, and the creature presses itself up against his screen. Dipper screams, and he swings his ax with his dominate hand. It collides with the creature’s lower half, and it hisses in pain. It doesn’t fall down, but only increases its pursuit of him. He ends up dropping the ax as he pushes away from it. He desperately keeps hold of his phone, and tries to look through it as he flees. Mabel swoops in beside him.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m fine.” She clutches her ax, and gets ready to go in for a blow. Pacifica, however, beats her to it.  Pacifica swings the ax and chops swiftly through the Gorgon’s neck. The gorgon’s head falls swiftly to the ground, and the body teeters for a moment before it follows. The body falls ungracefully to the ground, and makes an unimpressive thud as it finally lands. The golden blood spatters all around, and forms small, golden dots all over Pacifica. The metallic liquid sparkles across her skin, and Dipper can’t catch his breath. Her platinum blonde hair flows sensually behind her, and Dipper bites his lip as another part of his body becomes very aware of Pacifica’s presence. He honestly never thought that _Pacifica Northwest_ could have that effect on him.

 

“Pacifica,” Mabel says excitedly, “that was amazing!” The other girl starts laughing.

“Wait,” she says, “I-I did it.” Realization dawns on her, and she leaps up and down.

“I did it!” she shouts. Mabel laughs along with her, and they jump up and down excitedly. Dipper goes quickly from weirdly turned on to confused. He has no idea how they got so chummy so fast.

“Okay,” she says, a little breathlessly, “that was actually really fun.”

 

“I nominate Pacifica as the third member of the Mystery Twins,” Mabel says.

“Mabel,” he says, “That’s not how it works.”

“Fine,” she says, “we can be the Mystery Squad or something.”

“Who said that I want to hunt any more monsters?” Pacifica asks.

Mabel looks confused, and asks, looking sad and disappointed, “But you had so much fun?”

“I also almost died,” Pacifica says.

“The key word here is almost,” Dipper says. He laughs awkwardly, hoping that he didn’t end up sounding stupid.

“Alright,” Pacifica says, a little reluctantly,  

“Mystery squad, Mystery squad!” Mabel chants. Pacifica giggles, actually giggles and Dipper can feel himself getting sweaty and nervous and embarrassed. Dipper fucking hates crushes.

“I didn’t agree to this,” he says frantically, and much too loudly.

“Ah come on, Dip,” Mabel says, “the more the merrier, right?”  He really would prefer not to have Pacifica around. He doesn’t want to let this stupid little crush grow, but he doesn’t have a good reason to say no. Pacifica killed the monster, and that more than earns her a spot on whatever team they have.

“Alright,” he mumbles, and Mabel cheers.

“Do you think that we should do something about the body?” Pacifica asks.

“Nah,” Mabel says.

“Well we do have to do something about the axes,” Dipper says. They each grab one, and take it back to the shed. Dipper really hopes that Dan doesn’t notice the gorgon blood that’s coating one of them. They’re much too lazy to clean it up. They start to make their way back to the Shack, and they talk as they walk through the more normal parts of the forest.

“We need matching sweaters,” Mabel says.

“No,” Dipper says.

“I could do the first letters of our names,” Mabel says. She thinks about it for a moment, and then a thoughtful look passes over her face.

“Wait,” she says, “that probably wouldn’t be good because your name starts with a D and Pacifica’s starts with a P.” A blush spreads across Dipper’s cheeks. If she makes another, “I want both the D and the P” joke, he thinks he might scream.

“But I would like either of those,” she says with a shit eating grin.

“Oh my god, Mabel,” he nearly groans, “more pansexual jokes?”

“Like half my humor comes from sexuality, Dipper,” she says.

Pacifica looks to her in confusion, and asks, “What is pansexual?”  
“Oh,” Mabel says, “it just means that my attraction isn’t defined by gender.”

Pacifica’s confusion doesn’t lessen, and Mabel adds, “I like guys and girls.” A conflicted look crosses over Pacifica’s face, but she quickly changes the topic.

“How about favorite animals?” Pacifica asks.

“Oh yes,” Mabel says, “that sounds fantastic. I would have a unicorn, Dipper would have a deer-“  

“I never agreed to that,” Dipper says.

“What would you want, Pacifica?” she asks.

“Well,” Pacifica says, “I kind of like llamas.”

“Then a llama it is,” Mabel says. They keep walking, making weird awkward jokes and Dipper finds himself laughing loudly about almost all of them.

“Hey,” he says, “you could like, come hang out at the Shack if you want.” He curses himself internally. He’s so bad at being nonchalant, and flirting. Really, he’s bad at interacting with people in general but he ups that factor like twenty times when it’s with a girl he likes.

"Yeah," Mabel says, "just come by anytime." 

“That sounds fun,” Pacifica says, and Dipper almost lets out a sigh of relief. He hasn’t fucked this up yet. At least hypothetically, he still has a chance with her. Which is really weird, because Dipper hasn’t had a crush in five years, since back when they were twelve and he had his monstrous crush on Wendy. It’s kind of weird, and kind of terrifying, but it’s kind of exciting too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need to know what's endgame in order to read this fic (or decide not to read it), please send me an ask on tumblr. Mine is disregardcanon. I won't be speaking about that in the comments sections (at least until it becomes apparent what's going to happen), in case there's anyone who wants it to be a surprise.


	2. Mabel vs Her Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel vs her crush.
> 
> The crush is winning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Candy and Grenda are important. That is all.

After the gorgon incident, they invite Pacifica to come by the Shack whenever she wants. Surprisingly, the other girl actually takes her up on that offer and shows up the next day.

 

Mabel answers the door, and sees Pacifica standing on the porch.

“Um,” Mabel says, “hello?”

“I,” Pacifica says, “you said that I could come over?” She looks awkward and uncomfortable standing in her designer clothes on their rickety old porch. She’s not in disguise like she was the last time, though, so that’s a good sign. Mabel suddenly realizes that they’ve been standing in silence for quite a long time, and blushes as she tries to cover up the awkwardness.

“Oh yeah,” Mabel says, “of course! Come in, I just- I wasn’t expecting you!”

“I can leave,” Pacifica offers. She bites her lip, and awkwardly looks back off the porch.

“No,” Mabel says, “I want you to come in!” She gestures widely into the house, and Pacifica steps through the doorway.

“We’ve got a poop ton of board games if you’d like to play one,” Mabel says.

“Um,” Pacifica says, “alright.” Mabel grabs Guess Whom out of the game cabinet sets it on the ground. Mabel sits right down on the carpet, and Pacifica sends her a skeptical look.

“That looks really dirty,” she says. Mabel rolls her eyes, and then drapes a blanket over the aging and dirty carpet. Pacifica sits down on that, and then they take out the game and start playing. They play a round with the normal faces, and then switch to different categories. 

“Is your character hot?” Mabel asks, waggling her eyebrows.

“The category is household appliances,” Pacifica says.

“I dunno,” Mabel says, “ovens are pretty hot.” Pacifica laughs, and the warm sound fills the whole room as her face lights up. Mabel’s heart does a little somersault. She wishes that Pacifica weren’t so cute.

 

They burn through a few games of Guess Whom, and then Pacifica suggests they play Monopoly.

 

“Um,” Mabel says, “we actually don’t have that.”

“What?” Pacifica asks.

“Grunkle Stan has some weird knockoff,” Mabel says, “but it’s close enough.” She picks up the parts of Guess Whom, and grabs Knockoffopoly off the shelf. Mabel places it in between the two of them.

“Oh my god,” Pacifica says, “is that real?”

“Yup,” Mabel says, “isn’t it hilarious?” Pacifica takes off the lid, and starts looking over the parts.

“Oh my god,” she says, laughing loudly, “I-I can’t believe that this _exists!”_

“I think he got it for seventy five cents at a garage sale our first summer here,” Mabel says.

“They definitely don’t have anything like this at my fancy boarding school,” Pacifica says.

“Boarding school?” Mabel asks.

“Um, yeah,” Pacifica says, “once I got out of elementary school, my parents sent me off to school every year.”

“That sounds really lonely,” Mabel says, honestly. She can’t imagine going off to school without any member of her family. She thinks that she’d be awfully lonely.

“It’s alright,” Pacifica says, but she doesn’t sound alright.

“Did you have to go to school over the summer?” Mabel asks.

“Um, no,” Pacifica says, rolling the dice.

“Oh,” Mabel says, “I was just asking because, like, this is the first summer that we’ve seen you in forever.”

“I went to summer camp,” Pacifica says, but her tone sounds off, a bit stilted. Mabel’s not certain that she’s telling the whole truth. With only two people playing Knockoffopoly, it doesn’t take long for Pacifica to pummel Mabel straight into the ground.

 

Mabel only has two one dollar bills and the Unicorn Railroad when she lands on Pacifica’s priciest hotel.

“Pay up,” Pacifica says with a smug smile.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Mabel shouts. She grabs her two dollars and her property card and runs to the couch. She leaps onto it and lies down on her stomach, clutching her properties underneath her.

“Mabel!” Pacifica shouts. She shoots up, and runs towards Mabel. She tries to dig underneath Mabel and get out the cards.

“Come on, Mabel,” she says, “I-I already _won.”_

Mabel laughs and shouts, “Give me freedom, or give me death!” Pacifica groans, and jumps up on the couch and onto Mabel’s back. Mabel turns her head up slightly to face her, and Pacifica’s platinum blonde hair falls across her smiling face. Combined with the feeling of Pacifica straddling her back, Mabel can’t catch her breath. All she really wants to do is kiss the other girl, but Pacifica has other plans. She pulls her arms underneath Mabel and gropes around for the pieces. She’s not having much luck, and Mabel giggles.

“You won’t get them,” Mabel teases. Pacifica tickles Mabel’s stomach in response. Mabel spasms as she laughs, and they both fall onto a heap on the floor. Mabel lands on top.

“Ouch,” Pacifica says.

“Oh gosh,” Mabel says, as she tries gets off of her, “are you alright?” Pacifica laughs as she grabs the game pieces off of Mabel’s lap.

“Sucker!” she shouts.

“Oh no you didn’t!” Mabel retorts. She chases the other girl around the room, and they both laugh as they run circles around the itty-bitty room. Mabel chases Pacifica in circles for a few minutes until they both collapse into a breathless heap on the couch.

“Truce?” Mabel asks.

“There are no truces in monopoly,” Pacifica says matter-of-factly.

“But this is Knockoffopoly,” Mabel points out. Pacifica considers this, but doesn’t agree to the truce.

“Please?” Mabel asks, sending Pacifica her best puppy dog eyes, “please please please please-“

“Alright, Mabel,” Pacifica says, laughing, “we can call a truce.”

Mabel hugs her tightly, and says, “We’re both the winner! Coqueens.” Pacifica rolls her eyes, but in an affectionate way. God, Mabel thought that she’d outgrown her childhood habit of getting huge crushes in short spans of time. Apparently, she was wrong.

 

They play a game of checkers the next time, and Mabel ends up beating Pacifica every time because her moves are sporadic and impossible to predict. Pacifica gets frustrated. She’s not used to losing ND Mabel tries to calm her down.

“Paz,” she says, “you _destroyed_ me at Knockoffopoly, and we both won some Guess Whom.”

“It’s just,” she says, “Northwests aren’t supposed to lose. If my parents knew that I lost so many times, they’d..” Pacifica trails off at the end, and Mabel doesn’t know how her parents would react to that. She doesn’t think that she wants to pry into that either.

“Do you want to beat me at Knockoffopoly again?” Mabel says, “or we could play Get a Clue. I’m pretty bad at that one.” Pacifica manages to smile a little at that one.

“Sorry,” she says, “I just got really worked up.” They sit in silence for a moment, and Mabel stands up to pick up Get a Clue.

“Paz?” Pacifica asks.

“Oh,” Mabel says, “it’s just a nickname, you know. Is that alright?”

“Um, yeah,” Pacifica says, “Of course. It’s just that-“The other girl trails off again, and Mabel decides she’s not going to let it drop this time.

“What?” Mabel asks.

“No one’s ever given me a nickname before,” she says. She blushes as she says it, as if admitting it out loud is embarrassing to her.

“You’ve got one now,” Mabel says, sending her a smile. They take out the pieces, and start playing the game. Dipper finally comes downstairs at around one o’clock, because Dipper has no consistent or healthy sleep schedule.

 

“Um,” he says, “hi.” His hair’s a complete mess, and he’s in his plaid sleep pants and a BABBA shirt. Mabel has to stifle her giggles. He looks down, and realizes that he’s still in his pajamas.

He blushes and then says, “Um, yeah. I’m just gonna go change.” He nearly runs up the stairs, and this time Pacifica laughs right along with Mabel. He comes down a few minutes later, and they play Get a Clue, War Planes, and Oranges to Oranges.

 

 

Pacifica ends up coming over to the Shack every day. She and Mabel end up getting really close, and Mabel wishes that she could just work up the courage to ask the other girl out. She’s just afraid that if Pacifica doesn’t like her back, everything will get awkward and uncomfortable and she’ll loose the relationship that they’ve been building up. Sometimes, it almost feels like they have chemistry. That might just be wishful thinking, though.

 

They play a million board games, watch a million shows and movies and they even teach Pacifica how to play poker. Mabel still wins every hand of course, because she learned how to cheat from a conman. Pacifica crushes them in Knockoffopoly and Dipper destroys them at Get a Clue. And then they play a million games of spoons.

 

One day, Dipper bounds down the stairs at ten in the morning (a time most humans excluding him are normally awake).

"Where are you going?" Mabel asks. Dipper getting up before noon is strange enough to merit notice. 

“Some fairies stole the journal,” he says, “I’ve gotta go get it back. Be back in like an hour.”

“Oh come on,” Pacifica says, “there’s no way that you’re going anywhere without us.”

“I’ll be fine,” he says.

Pacifica rolls her eyes, “remember last time, when you and Mabel would have _died_ without me?”

“You don’t know that,” Dipper says.

“Well _you_ definitely would have died alone,” Mabel says.

“So we’re coming,” Pacifica says matter-of-factly, with a self-satisfied smirk. Dipper blushes brightly, and awkwardly flails his arms.

“Um,” he says, “yeah, okay. That’s fine. Com _pletely FINE!”_ Pacifica sends him a confused look, but doesn’t seem to think anything of Dipper’s behavior. Mabel does, though. It’s just like when Dipper had that crush on Wendy, and suddenly Mabel can see things clearly. Dipper likes Pacifica too.

 _Fudge monkeys_ , she thinks. She’s completely and utterly fucked.

 

Really, what are the chances that both she and her brother could fall for the same girl at the same time? She supposes that she understands, though. Pacifica’s amazing and adorable and she’s really hot when she kills monsters and- ugh. Mabel’s so fucked.

 

 

Pacifica ends up batting away the fairies with a tree branch, and Mabel gets that stupid, nervous warm feeling in her chest again. She lies in bed awake, worrying about what to do about her crush on Pacifica. She sends a text into her group chat with Candy and Grenda, “We Dem Girlz”.

 

“I really need to talk to you guys,” she sends. Her friends respond to her text immediately, and moments later they have a sleepover planned at Grenda’s house. It’s eleven thirty at night, but Mabel takes the aging little Ford that she and Dipper share and drives it over to Grenda’s. She walks through the grass up to the front door, and only has to wait about thirty seconds before it opens.

 

“Mabel!” Grenda shouts. She sounds as excited to see Mabel as she did a few weeks ago, when Mabel came back and they were seeing each other for the first time in a year. There are few things that Mabel appreciates more in life than Grenda’s genuine enthusiasm for all of her friends. Grenda leads her to the living area in the basement, and Mabel plops down in her normal spot on the love seat. Candy has already set up shop in the recliner, and Mabel would never consider sleeping on the couch at Grenda’s house. Grenda sleeps on her own couch. That’s her spot, not Mabel’s.

 

“Alright,” Candy says, adjusting her glasses, “what are we talking about?”

“Yeah, M,” Grenda says, lying down on the old, red couch, “what’s up?”

“I,” Mabel says, and it suddenly seems a bit trivial, “I have a crush.” They both squeal, and then Mabel remembers why she _loves_ these two. They just care so much about each other and about Mabel. Sometimes they don’t connect as well as they should over the school year, but they’re both more than willing to readmit Mabel into their lives when summer starts again.

“Who is it?” Candy asks.

“We want the deets!” Grenda demands.

“Um,” Mabel says, “you know how I said that Pacifica and I are becoming friends?” They both nod their heads.

“Well,” she says, “it’s her.” She blushes bright red, and covers her face up with her brightly colored blanket.

“Pacifica?” Candy asks. She sounds confused by the idea.

“Yes?” Mabel says. Grenda bounds off the couch and actually tries to check Mabel’s temperature.

“Are you sick?” She asks, “you don’t feel sick, but-“

“Guys,” Mabel promises, “I’m alright. Pacifica’s changed, and I just, I really, _really_ like her.” She hasn’t had a crush this intense since sophomore year. That relationship crashed and burned, but there’s part of her that thinks that this could work better. There’s also the part of her that’s terrified that Pacifica will end up dating Dipper. And then there’s the part of her that feels guilty for feeling that way, and then part of her that doesn’t care. She’s just got a lot of conflicted emotions right now.

“I understand,” Candy says. Grenda’s face lights up.

“You two could double date with Marius and I!” she says, “like, it would be _awesome.”_ She sing-songs the last part.

“I’ve gotta be dating her first,” Mabel says first. She doesn’t have any confidence in her words, and her friends can hear it.

“Well then you’ve just gotta ask her out,” Grenda says, “be direct. That’s what I do.”

“What if she’s straight?” Mabel says.

“That would kind of suck,” Candy says.

Mabel hadn’t really intended to tell them this next part, but she just starts rambling says, “What if I ruin our friendship? And like, Dipper likes her too? Would it be awful to even try something?” Neither of them seem shocked that both Mabel and her brother have ended up liking the same girl.

“Dibs applies to people, M,” Candy says gravely.

“Mabel,” Grenda says, honesty, “look, you just gotta go for it.”

“But what if she gets freaked out?” Mabel asks.

“She knows that you’re pan, right?” Candy asks.

“Well, yes,” Mabel says.  
“Then I don’t think she’ll get freaked out that you like her, even if she doesn’t like you back,” Candy says.

“Yeah,” Grenda says, “she might already know.”

“How?” Mabel asks.

“You aren’t subtle, Mabel,” Grenda says.

“Neither are you,” she says.

Grenda shrugs, and says, “I don’t try to be.” They pop in another cheesy high school movie, and they watch it and laugh into the night. Mabel thinks that she’ll tell Pacifica this weekend, when she finishes up the sweater and gives it to her. Mabel has rushed into a lot of things in her life, and she doesn’t really want to rush into this. She really, _really_ likes Paz and doesn’t want to mess this up.

 

Grenda gets an old, cheesy high school movie out and slips it in. They watch it and they laugh, and Mabel stops worrying about everything else for a little bit.


	3. Ask an Aromantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dipper makes progress. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a very similar structure to the last one, but I promise things will take off next chapter. Pacifica's POV and the plot are arriving soon enough.

He wakes up to the ringing of the doorbell and hears a knocking at the door. He groans as he rolls over. Dipper wonders who could be knocking on the door at the ungodly hour of- eleven o’clock. He blinks again, and looks at his clock. It’s actually eleven thirty, and it takes him a moment to realize that it isn’t early at all. He forces himself to get up and put on actual clothes, and then walks down the stairs to answer the door.

He opens the door, and sees Pacifica, who’s looking as gorgeous and put-together as always and standing on their front porch. He suddenly regrets not even checking to make sure that his hair doesn’t look like shit.

“Um,” he says, “hey Pacifica.”

“Hey Dipper,” she says, looking a little confused at seeing him before two in the afternoon.

She peeks past him, and asks, “Um, is Mabel here?”

“Um, no,” Dipper says, “Mabel’s still at.. Grenda’s, I think?”

“Oh, okay,” she says, sounding a little bit awkward with the situation. She bites her lip, and then briefly glances around.

“I could go,” she offers. She looks behind her, and almost starts to leave the porch.

“Don’t go!” he says, much more forcefully than he intended to.

“I mean, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” he says. He puts his hands in his pockets and tries to look less awkward than he feels.

“Alright,” she says, and she follows him into the Shack. She sits down on the couch, and they sit in awkward silence for a moment. Dipper quickly realizes that neither of them are as good at making casual conversation as Mabel is.

“Let’s play Knockoffopoly,” Pacifica suggests with a devious grin on her face.

“Oh come on,” he says, “you’ll kick my ass at that game.”

“That’s kind of the point,” she says. Dipper shrugs, and then gets out the game. As expected, Pacifica starts kicking his ass pretty quickly. They don’t really talk for most of it. Mabel normally initiates conversations between the three of them, and Dipper can feel his stomach tying itself into knots. He’s a bit afraid that he’ll say something really fucking stupid if he even opens his mouth. After a long time playing, it becomes glaringly obvious that there’s no way in hell that Dipper can win.

“You owe me nine hundred and seventy seven dollars,” Pacifica says.

“Um,” he says, glancing at his small pile of twenty dollar bills, “will you accept properties?”

“Nope,” she says with a little grin. After mortgaging every property he owned except for the Dwarvish Gold Mines. He looks over to Pacifica’s pile of cash and properties, and realizes that there’s no way that he’s going to survive another round. Pacifica rolls the dice, and actually ends up _landing_ on his Dwarvish Gold Mines.

“Ha!” he says, “and you owe me,” He takes out his card excitedly, thinking that he might be able to rub this back in her face.  

“Twenty one dollars,” Dipper says, in complete and utter disappointment. That sounded a lot more impressive in his head. Pacifica rolls her eyes, but hands over the money. Now Dipper has twenty two dollars and one unmortgaged property. He looks on in fear at Pacifica’s row of hotels, and groans. He rolls the die, and then lands on the most expensive hotel on the board.

“That will be,” Pacifica says, picking up the card, “one thousand two hundred and twenty five dollars.” He looks at his tiny pile of cash, and checks the mortgaging price for the Dwarvish Gold Mines. They will only give him two hundred dollars, and he sighs loudly. He just drops all of his properties and his tiny bit of money into Pacifica’s pile.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Pacifica says.

“You’re rich,” he says, “so that’s kinda like cheating.” Pacifica rolls her eyes, and Dipper really wishes that he didn’t find that so attractive because of how _often she does it._

“Being rich doesn’t help you at Knockoffopoly. This is all business savvy,” she says, gesturing broadly to her large pile of money. It reminds Dipper a bit of his Grunkle Stan, which is not an association he wanted to make about the girl that he likes. He shoves the image out of his head.  

“Remember when you told me I was the worst and then slammed the door on my face?” Pacifica asks.

“Oh god,” he says, blushing brightly, “I’m really sorry about that.” He knows now that that wasn’t accurate. Hell, he learned by the end of the day that he didn’t really mean that.

“No,” she says, “it was actually pretty funny.”

She starts putting the money away, and asks, “You want to play something else?”

“Definitely,” he says, though there’s part of him that specifically wants to go looking for monsters so that he can watch her kill them.

“What do you want to play?” she asks, sticking her head out of the closet.

“I don’t really care,” he says, though he wants to play Get a Clue. Pacifica grabs Get a Clue and drops it on the ground in front of him.

“We both know this is what you want to play,” she says. He blushes, and tries to make a witty retort. It doesn't come out though, and instead he just doesn't end up saying anything. They start playing, though, and the conversation flows a bit freer once Dipper's in his game zone. A few hours later, Mabel walks in. 

  
"I'm home!" she says. She drops her sleepover stuff on the couch, and then meets Pacifica's eyes. She seems shocked to see that the girl's already here.

“Um,” she says, “hi Paz.” Her eyes dart between the two.

“Hey Mabel,” she says. Dipper groans internally. Mabel just has to show up the moment he starts making progress. They all play a few more games together, but it feels sort of awkward, more off than normal. He wonders what changed in the atmosphere. They play until quite a bit after the sun goes down, and then Pacifica finally decides that she needs to go home.

“Bye guys,” Pacifica says.

“Bye Paz!” Mabel says. Dipper’s a little bit surprised by the nickname, because he’s never heard Mabel call her that before. He doesn’t dwell on it, though.

“Um, yeah,” he says, trying and probably failing to sound cool, “bye Pacifica.” Mabel pops in a cheesy romcom, and Dipper suffers through it because he doesn’t have anything better to do and Mabel prefers watching movies with other people. He wonders which boy Mabel is thinking about this time.

 

By the time it’s over, Mabel’s yawning and quite obviously ready to go to sleep. She walks to the downstairs bedroom that used to have the crazy, bodyswapping carpet while Dipper climbs up the stairs to the one in the attic. He falls down on the bed, and takes out his phone. Dipper needs some advice if he’s ever going to make something happen with Pacifica. He takes a deep breath, and dials Wendy’s number.

“Hey Dipper,” she says, “it’s almost one in the morning.”

“Oh, sorry,” he says, “I could call tomorrow.”

“Dude,” she says, “it’s totally fine. I never go to bed until after two anyways.”

“Oh okay,” he says, a little nervously, “you know how you said that I could ask you for advice about romance stuff?”

“Well,” Wendy says, “I said that you could ask me about romance stuff. But like, I’m not sure I’m really the best person for this.”  

“Well,” he says, “there’s this girl that I like, but I don’t know how to find out if she likes me back.” He’s glad that Wendy can’t see him over the phone, because his face has turned bright red.

“Dude,” she says, “just ask her out on a date.”

“But what if she doesn’t like me back?” he says.

“Do it,” Wendy says.

“Wendy-“

“Dude,” she says, “if you like her, just go for it.”

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” he asks, “do you have any advice if she says no? Or if, if she gets mad?”

“Dip,” she says, “I’m aromantic. My romantic advice consists of “go for it” and “dump them”. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Alright,” he says, “Since I can’t dump her.”

“Then you’ve got to go for it,” Wendy asserts.

“Alright,” he says, “now that we’ve got that settled, how are things going with you?” They talk long into the night about Wendy’s new job and how much she loves Portland, and about Dipper’s plans for college and the future in general.

“Fuck,” she says, “I-I’ve really gotta go. I have to fucking be at work at nine.”  
“Shit dude,” he says, “that sucks.”

“Well, yeah,” she says, “good luck with that thing. Night, Dipper.” The line goes dead, and Dipper lies down in his bed and stares at the clock. It’s 3:37 in the morning, and later today he’s going to ask Pacifica Northwest on a date.

 

He doesn’t need any long winded plans or ridiculous things like that. He just needs to go for it. And also sleep. He can go for it. He can _totally_ go for it. Dipper just needs to come up with a plan first.


	4. Plot Enters Stage Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Pacifica finally gets her POV, and the plot arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> assuming that this fic has a plot, this is where it starts heating up.
> 
> Check the bottom note for warnings

Pacifica lies against the arm of the couch, while Mabel sprawls out across the entire floor of the living room. Dipper plops down in the arm chair. Mabel groans. 

"So bored," she says. 

“Alright,” Dipper says, “then what _is_ the plan for today?”

“Something different,” Mabel says, “because I am bored of board games.” Pacifica isn’t sure that _she_ could ever get bored of board games. She just thinks that it’s nice to be able to spend time with two people she likes that care about her. She certainly doesn’t say this aloud, though.

“Mabel,” Dipper says exasperatedly, “must everything be a pun?” Pacifica laughs a little at that. Mabel can always get her laugh. She finds it all exciting, and wonderful, but frightening as well. She tries not to think about the last time that she felt this way about a person.

“Puns are my life, Dipper,” Mabel says regally, and Pacifica laughs even more.

“Okay, but really. What are we going to do? Do you have any ideas?” Dipper asks, “there are like, two places to go in Gravity Falls. The public pool and Walmart.”

“How about we go on a forest adventure,” Mabel says with an excited gleam in her eyes.

“I’m not really in the mood to get attacked by monsters today,” he says.

“Dipper?” Mabel asks incredulously, “doesn’t want to get attacked by monsters? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“I just don’t really feel like dealing with it today,” he says. He sounds adamant about it, though Pacifica couldn’t imagine why. She knows just how to change his mind.

“We could go to the mall,” Pacifica suggests, and she thinks that she gets an evil twinkle in her eye. Mabel’s face lights up, and Pacifica’s heart flutters. 

“Actually,” he says, “A forest adventure sounds good,” Mabel laughs, and her face lights up like a starry sky. Dipper grabs his backpack full of monster hunting essentials, and Mabel grabs her grappling hook. Then Pacifica follows them out the door. They walk a little ways into the forest before anyone asks what they intend to _do_ there. This person, of course, is Dipper.

 

“Alright,” he says, “so what are we going to do?”

“Oooo,” Mabel says, “Paz, you want to see some unicorns?”

“Unicorns?” Pacifica asks, “you’re kidding, right?” Pacifica’s seen some weird shit in these woods, but she’s not ready to believe in unicorns.

“Nope, unicorns totally exist,” Mabel says.

She pauses a moment before she adds, with a slightly bitter quality to her voice, “And they’re major poop faces.” Pacifica decides not to ask for clarification. She shakes her head, and reminds herself that really shouldn’t find Mabel’s usage of the word “poop head” adorable.

“You know,” Mabel says, “I wonder what a llama-unicorn hybrid would be called? A llamacorn?” Dipper groans, and Pacifica smiles.

“Do you want me to make your sweater a llamacorn instead?” Mabel asks with a wide, sunny smile. A flock of birds take off in Pacifica’s stomach. It’s hard for her to muster up words when Mabel’s this cute.

“Um, no,” she manages, “I-I think a llama’s just fine.”

“Back to the question of what we’re going to do,” Dipper says.  

“Well,” Mabel says, “we could go see the growy-shrinky stones, the bunker, the UFO-“

“How about we just walk?” he asks. He’s trying to look nonchalant, but is clearly at least a little uncomfortable.

“Uh,” Mabel says, “that’s fine. I just thought that we could do something Mystery Squad-y. I’ve almost got the sweaters done.”

“Uh,” he says, clearly trying to pull something out of his ass, “we should wait to do that when we get the sweaters. To celebrate.” Mabel sends him a skeptical look, but doesn’t comment.

“Alright,” she says, “just a walk in the woods. Something that normal, boring people who don’t hunt monsters do.”

“It’s less boring than the board games,” Pacifica adds.

“True,” Mabel says, nodding her head. They walk through the more normal parts of the woods, stepping on twigs and watching for small animals and magical creatures. Mabel tells loud, funny stories while she and Dipper mainly listen, though Dipper seems to have something else on his mind. He seems more nervous and sweaty than normal.

 

The bright, summer sunshine pours in from above the trees, and Pacifica hears little noises that she thinks might belong to squirrels. But she wouldn’t swear to that, with all of the supernatural things that live in these woods. Rainbow, lightly glowing vines curl around some of the taller trees.

“These are my kinda vines,” Mabel says, wiggling her eyebrows comically. Pacifica blushes, and hopes that the other girl doesn’t notice. There are few things more terrifying than having a crush that might be requited. That’s what got her in so much trouble last time.

 

“Um,” he says, “Mabel there’s a huge patch of flowers over there.”

“Yes,” she says, “there certainly is?” She sends him a weird look.

“Don’t you want to pick them?” he asks, gesturing, almost frantically towards the sea of flowers across the forest. Pacifica looks suspiciously between the two of them, and Mabel sends Dipper a skeptical look.

“Um,” she says, “alright, bro bro. Whatever floats your boat.” She rolls her eyes, but leaves anyways.

 

“Um, Dipper?” Pacifica asks.

“Yeah?” he asks, awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

“What is this all about?” she asks. She’s thoroughly confused.

“Okay,” he says, nervously, “just give me like five seconds.” He takes a deep breath, and the picks a bright red flower off the tree beside them. He holds it out to her, blushing as red as the flower.

“Would you like to go out to eat with me? Tomorrow?” Dipper asks. Pacifica’s mind freezes. Dipper’s asking her on a date. _Dipper_ is asking her out on a date. She has no idea what to do.

“Um,” he says, very awkwardly, “you don’t have to or anything.”

“No,” She says, probably much too forcefully, “I’d like to.” It’s a knee-jerk reaction, more intended to keep his feelings from being hurt than for anything else. She likes Dipper. She really likes Dipper, and she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. And maybe, a part of her thinks, if she goes out with him then she can make herself straight. Pacifica's always gone to all girls boarding school, all girls camps, even after her parents made her transfer. Even after the… incident. Her attraction to girls has always been just because there weren’t any boys around. That’s what they told her at camp at least.

 

 _But_ , a voice within her whispers, _Dipper’s right here but you still like **Mabel** - _Sheshoves the thoughts away, andforces herself to focus. Dipper’s blushing and smiling really widely, and for a moment Pacifica feels guilty. Then the moment ends, and she feels a bit safer. If she can make this happen, she won’t have to worry about her parents shipping her away again. She won’t have to worry about being disinherited, or being shipped off to gay conversion therapy. And she might not even have to worry about her feelings for Mabel.

 _If I can make this work_ , she thinks, _all my problems will be solved._ Dipper lets out an excited little squeal, and the guilt comes flooding back again.

“Sorry,” he says, “I just- I got a little carried away there.”

“No,” she says, “it’s totally fine. It’s actually kind of cute.” He doesn’t get her heart racing the same way that Mabel does, but she likes him. She genuinely likes Dipper. She knows that it’s an awful thing to even think about, but he looks a lot like Mabel too. Maybe that will help.

Pacifica can make this work. She _has_ to make this work. She clutches the red flower in her hands, and tries to smile. Then, Mabel comes bounding over, arms full of rainbow flowers with a huge smile on her face.

 

“Hey guys,” Mabel says. Then, she spots the flower and looks suspiciously between them.

 Pacifica’s heart sinks, and Mabel asks, “What did I miss?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's going to be a crap ton of internalized homophobia, and quite a little bit of angst from this chapter on out. Angst on everybody's part. Just a warning.


	5. Mabel's Guide to Crush Related Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's really hard to watch your brother date your crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a little over a week since I updated this fic. 
> 
> Happy update day!!! It's a little longer than usually, so hopefully that makes the wait worth it.

The three walk back in relative silence. Mabel normally does most of the talking. She enjoys it. Normally she doesn’t mind keeping the conversation going, but today she just can’t muster up the energy. She feels numb.

 

Mabel can hear her brother’s cheerful voice echoing in her mind as he says, “ _Pacifica and I are going out tomorrow_.” She knows that she never really had a chance. She tries to remind herself of that, but it doesn’t really work. There’s something so much more painful about watching her crush end up with her brother than it would be watching her end up with anyone else.

Pacifica bids them adieu before they get to the Shack, and Mabel goes straight to her room. She takes out a canvas and some paint and tries to paint the happiest, prettiest sunset to try to take her mind off of everything. The sunset ends up looking more like the depressing time right after sunset when the world is barely lit and seems like something out of an old horror movie. She supposes that has something to do with her mood. She takes out a bottle of glue, and pours some of it onto the canvas. Then she dumps a ton of glitter onto it. Somehow, it only makes it look more depressing. Mabel groans.

 

“Pizza’s here!” she hears her uncle shout. She sighs, and glances at her art project again. Art is supposed to cheer her up, not drag her down.

“If you don’t come down,” he says, “I might just eat the whole thing myself.” Mabel plops down at the table, and grabs a slice of pepperoni pizza out of the box. She drops it down on her plate, and tries to force a smile. Dipper didn’t notice how she was feeling because he was in a cloudy, happiness induced haze. But Stan would notice, so has to at least try to cover it up. She really doesn’t want to try to talk about it. 

Dipper’s humming a song by BABBA and sort of bouncing as he comes down the stairs. He looks so much happier than he has for months. Mabel feels a pang of guilt for feeling bitter about it. There’s a bounce in his step as he sits down at the table and he grins as he sits down in the chair.

“Why are you so chipper?” Grunkle Stan asks.

 “I asked Pacifica on a date!” Dipper says proudly. Stan just stares at him for a moment.

“So what happened?” he asks, “why are you happy about that? Did she like let you down easy or something?”

“She said yes!” Dipper says, sounding much less happy that he did earlier.

“Really?” he asks.

“Mabel can back me up,” Dipper says. Stan looks at her for a moment, and then Mabel freezes in her seat for a moment. 

“Um, yeah,” Mabel says, trying to plaster on a smile, “Dip’s telling the truth.” _He just keeps rubbing it in,_ she thinks with an unnecessary amount of venom. She knows that the thought’s completely unfounded too. As far as she knows, Dipper has no clue that Mabel likes Pacifica too. Her mind just keeps thinking things that she doesn’t agree with.

“So this is real?” Stan asks, slipping more into a teasing, proud sort of tone, “I’m not going insane?”  

“Nope,” Dipper says, “you’re completely sane. I have a date.”

“With an actual girl?” Stan asks.

“Yes,” Dipper says indignently. He sounds the same way that he did when she or Stan teased him when he was twelve.

“An actual date?” their grunkle asks.

“Yes,” he says, “an actual date. Tonight.” He takes out his phone and glances at it.

“Actually,” he says, “I’d better leave right now if I don’t want to be late.” He gets up and quickly gets out of the Shack.

“What sort of date is he going to take her on without a car?” Stan asks. Dipper didn’t grab the keys to the rusty old car they share on the way out. This actually earns a giggle from Mabel, and Dipper comes back in, blushing madly. He grabs the keys off the stand, and sends them a glare. _Not a single word,_ it says.

“That’s good omen!” Stan jokes, and Mabel laughs. She takes a bite of her slice of pizza, and suddenly is reminded about where Dipper’s going. He’s going on a date with Pacifica. Suddenly, her momentary good humor’s gone again. She eats in silence for a few moments, and Stan eventually breaks it.

 

“How’s your day been, sweetie?” he asks. He sounds concerned, and Mabel curses herself. She’s never been a good actress, but she was hoping that she could keep her awful mood hidden for at least a little longer.

“It’s been alright,” she says. She doesn’t elaborate, and takes another bite of pizza. She’s not sure if she can, because her voice has gone all cracky and she can feel the tiniest hint of tears in her eyes. She doesn’t know if she can keep it in. 

“We can take it in the living room if you want,” he offers, and Mabel heaves a sigh of relief. She needs to watch some mind-numbing cartoons instead of thinking about everything. Mabel puts on a favorite cartoon, and collapses onto the chair, trying her hardest not to think about Dipper and Pacifica’s date. It isn’t easy. Mabel sets the pizza box down on the ground, and starts searching around for the remote. She needs to have something else to focus on.

“I won’t push,” he says, “but.. just know that you can talk to me.” She sends him a genuine smile, and doesn’t lie and say that she’s fine.

Instead she says, “thank you.” She finds the remote, and she turns on the cartoons she’s been so desperate to get on. They watch cartoons for a solid three hours, and Stan laughs loudly at jokes that specifically appeal to twelve year old boys. It keeps Mabel’s mood a bit better, and they keep watching until Dipper comes back in around twelve thirty.

“How’d it go?” Grunkle Stan asks.

“It was fantastic,” Dipper says, with that giddy little quality his voice takes on when talking about the journals or trigonometry. Mabel feels guilty that all she wants is to stop listening to him talk about how happy he is.

“Yeah,” Mabel says, “great. I think that I’m gonna turn in for the night.” Dipper sends her a confused look. Normally she would be asking tons of excited questions about it went, trying to drain him for every last detail.

“Alright,” Dipper says, “night, Mabel.”

“Night everyone,” Mabel says, unenthusiastically. She plops down in her bed in the old, rickety bedroom. It doesn’t have the body-swapping carpet anymore, but it still feels just as creepy as ever. She wishes that she would have fought Dipper harder for the attic when they decided they needed separate rooms.

 

Mabel falls down into bed, and tries to keep a hold of herself. That works for all of thirty seconds. She doesn’t think that she can do this. It’s a stupid thing to cry about, but that doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face and wetting her pillow.

* * *

When she wakes up the next morning, the sun shines brightly through the window. Both her eyes and pillow are dry, and she feels a little bit better. She thinks that it might be an easier day. Dipper didn’t say anything about another date, so maybe she can just avoid thinking about it. It’s only eight o’clock, but Mabel’s never had the same unfounded grudge against mornings that Dipper has. She gets up, takes a quick shower, and then goes downstairs to eat some breakfast. She eats a bowl of sugary cereal and drinks some Mabel juice.

The doorbell rings, and Mabel knows immediately who's probably at the door. She tries to convince herself that it might be door-to-door salespeople, conversion-oriented Christians, or even overly zealous trick-or-treaters that are just a few weeks early for Summerween. Unsurprisingly, it's not any of these people. On her doorstep stands Pacifica Northwest in all her blonde, fashionable, gorgeous glory. 

“Um,” Mabel says, as the stupid, warm-crush feelings settle over her, “hi Paz.”

“Hey,” Pacifica says, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Mabel says, “of course.” Her heart’s beating like a hummingbird’s wings, and she can barely catch her breath. Pacifica looks fantastic this morning, and no matter how much Mabel doesn’t want to like her, that doesn’t lessen her reaction to her. Mabel takes out a deck of cards, and they start playing a game of spoon (with only one spoon because they are only two players). When she was younger, Candy always insisted they play with forks but Mabel learned her lesson after stabbing harshly into the soft part of her hand in between her thumb and first finger. Mabel only uses soft plastic spoons now.

When they start to play, to Mabel's surprise, she realizes that it almost feels normal. It almost feels like nothing has changed, and Mabel wants to treasure that feeling. She wants to bottle it up, and make sure that it never goes away. She knows that things have changed, though, and she kind of has to acknowledge that. Eventually, Mabel feels she needs to address the elephant in the room.

“How did it go?” she asks. She’s not very invested in the question, but she hopes that it doesn’t sound like it. She doesn’t want Pacifica to know that she isn’t excited for them. She doesn’t want either of them to know how selfish she’s being.

“What?” Pacifica asks.

“You know,” Mabel says, hoping that she doesn’t let any of her anger seep into her tone, “the date.”

“Oh yeah,” Pacifica says, “that went great.” The way that Pacifica talks about the date is so genuinely excited and pleasant. Dipper comes down a bit later, surprisingly before noon, and then the entire dynamic changes.

“Hey, Dipper,” Pacifica says. He looks down, and then notices that he’s only in boxer shorts.

“I should have worn pants,” he says as he turns around to ascend the stairs and fix his problem. Pacifica laughs, and Mabel tries to laugh right along with her. But it’s not the same as it was a few days ago when a similar thing happened. Now they aren’t a group of three the same way that they’ve always been. They aren’t even a couple and a third-wheel the way that Mabel would like.

Dipper comes down a few minutes later, with his hair all combed and his junk in pants. Mabel quickly realizes that she’s not the only one that’s noticed the change in their relationship. There’s a stilted quality to their interactions, and Mabel can’t tell if it’s only because of her.

“Deal me in,” Dipper says, and Mabel just resets the entire game. They have to grab another spoon out of the kitchen, because now they have to play spoons instead of spoon. He sits down beside Pacifica and sends her a goofy look that she smiles about. Mabel grits her teeth, and tries to smile as well. She doubts if it looks natural, and lets it drop.

“Are you alright?” Pacifica asks. She sounds so concerned. Mabel forces a smile. No matter how she feels, Mabel doesn’t want Pacifica to feel bad.

“Yeah,” Mabel says, “just didn’t sleep well last night.” They don’t talk much for a couple of rounds, except for Pacifica bragging loudly about her victory. Dipper would normally find something like that annoying, but apparently it’s alright because it’s Pacifica. Mabel understands the sentiment, though. She also finds it ridiculously endearing when Pacifica’s bragging.

“Okay,” Dipper says, dealing the cards, “If I win this round, then we go to the movies for our next date.”

“Maybe then you won’t spill your drink all over yourself,” she says.

“Well," he says, blushing, "Can you really blame me? You’re just so distracting." 

“That is literally the worst line that I’ve ever heard,” Pacifica tells him. Mabel grits her teeth, and clutches her cards angrily beneath the table. But she doesn’t say anything, she considers that a fairly large victory. Dipper does win the next round, and he gloats just as much as Pacifica does, as much as they all do, really. It’s much less cute on him, though. 

“Guess who’s not a loser?” he asks, “Dipper Pines! Dipper Pines!”

“Oh my god,” Pacifica says, “I don’t know you.”

“Victory kiss?” he asks. He makes the signature Pines family puppy dog face, and Pacifica rolls her eyes. She pecks him on the cheek, though, and Mabel feels a bitter, envious sadness course through her veins. She looks down at her cards under the table to avoid looking at the kiss, and sees something equally couply and sweet and disgusting. They’re holding hands under the stupid table and Mabel can’t take it anymore. She can’t stand anymore of their cute, sugary couple-y nonsense. Mabel needs to get out. She needs someone to vent to. She takes out her phone, and glances at a text that Grenda sent her a few days ago.

“Oh gosh,” she says, “I’ve got to go.” 

"Wait," Pacifica asks, "Where are you going?" She sounds sad, and a little bit concerned. Mabel almost regrets ditching them.

“Sorry,” Mabel says, clutching her phone like a lifeline, “Grenda needs me. Emergency girl meeting.”

“She and Marius are having problems,” Mabel says, and she knows that nothing will get Dipper to stop asking questions like boy troubles. Mabel grabs the keys to their aging little car, hops in, and drives to Grenda's. Mabel doesn’t even bother texting them. She knows that Candy and Grenda will both be at Grenda’s house, and if they aren’t she can wait on the dumb porch until they get back.

She needs to talk to her friends, and she doesn’t think she can spend another second with her brother and Pacifica without screaming. They’re so sweet and domestic that it sort of makes her sick, but she knows that it really shouldn’t. If her brother were like this with any other girl, she’d be throwing an actual party, complete with balloons, little hats and a cake. It’s just that she wants to be the one doing these things with Pacifica. She doesn’t want to envy her brother, but when he’s the one getting to do this stuff with Pacifica it’s pretty hard not to.

 

She knocks on the door, much louder and longer than is really necessary. Grenda opens the door before she’s even finished.

“Mabel?" Grenda asks. Mabel lets herself in.

"Are you alright?” Grenda asks. 

“Not really,” she says as she walks into the living room. She doesn’t even bother to look around the room, and just lies down on the couch, and she ends up falling over Candy’s lap.

“Mabel,” she says, “you seem like something’s really got you down.”

“Hi Mabel,” Candy says. At another time, Mabel would probably make some sort of joke. She can’t even muster up the will to right now.

“Pacifica and Dipper are dating,” she says, despondently.

“God that sucks Mabel,” Grenda says. Grenda looks genuinely torn up about it, but Candy just looks confused.

“Dipper and Pacifica?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Mabel says. She doesn’t elaborate, and she really doesn’t want to think about it anymore. She wants to vent. She can’t vent her frustrations if she doesn’t think about them, but she doesn’t _want_ to think about them. It's like being caught between a hurricane and an earthquake. 

“I cannot see it,” Candy says.

“Apparently _they_ can,” Mabel groans.

“Dude,” Grenda says, “I am _so_ sorry.” Grenda doesn’t have the same sort of relationship problems as Candy and Mabel do. She and Marius have been together for years, but she’s still good at validating their problems. That, and telling them to dump people that don’t treat them right. Grenda’s go to romantic advice of “dump them” isn’t exactly going to help Mabel now. She keeps thinking about how things could have gone if she would have done something differently. She keeps wondering if she could have prevented this from ever happening.

“Maybe if I would have asked her a few days earlier,” Mabel laments. She could have swept Pacifica off her feet before Dipper even had a chance to pick a flower.

“Mabel,” Candy tells her, “there’s no use hitting on a straight tree.”

“Candy,” Mabel says honestly, “I have no idea what that means.”

“If Pacifica likes Dipper,” Candy says, “then she would have been straight earlier. Getting to her quicker wouldn’t have changed her sexuality.”

“But what if she’s pan?” Mabel asks, “or bi, or ace?” There are so many ways that Pacifica hypothetically could like her enough to go on a date with her, but she missed her window of opportunity. She’s now in the “possible sister-in-law” zone, which is somewhere no potential romantic partner can ever crawl their way out of. People might do it all the time in romcoms, but it just doesn’t happen in real life.

“Mabel,” Candy says, “I just don’t want you to get your hopes too high.”  
“I know,” Mabel says, “she’s off limits now.” There is literally no way that a girl can be more off-limits than “brother’s girlfriend”.

“But,” she says, “She’s still my best friend.” Candy and Grenda both glare at her when she says that.

“Other than you too,” Mabel elaborates. Grenda still doesn't look placated.

“She's the best friend that I want to kiss?” Mabel offers. Candy and Grenda look at each other, and seem to decide that is an alright description. They nod their heads.

Mabel continues, saying, “We’ve just been hanging out so much all together. I don’t think that I can handle that anymore. It was so hard being around them today.” She doesn’t know if she could stand hanging out with them like normal. Dealing with her crush was so much easier when she hypothetically had a chance with her.

“Then you hang out with them less,” Candy suggests, “come over here more often. Give them space to work out their relationship.”

“Yeah,” Grenda says, “they might even break up while you’re gone.”

“Grenda,” Candy says, “you shouldn’t get her hopes up. Ninety percent of the population is straight.”

“Statistics schmustistics,” Grenda says. Mabel tries to ignore the rest of it, and focuses only on the helpful information. She loves her friends, but sometimes they can get a little off topic. Or a lot. Sometimes they can start with the topic of the weather and end up discussing why vampires aren’t as hot as werewolves.

“Yeah,” Mabel says, “I’ll just- I’ll let them do their own thing. I’ll give them some space. And then maybe, maybe this crush will go away.” Normally if she ignores a crush, it will fade. It’s just that she’s never had one this strong before.

“That’s the spirit,” Grenda say.

“Ignoring crushes works for me,” Candy assures her. They sit in silence for a few moments before Mabel says anything. 

“Can I borrow a pair of pajamas?” Mabel asks, “I-I forgot to bring a pair.” She doesn’t mention how she sort of just stormed out, and she doesn’t need to. Her friends understand.

“Of course!” Grenda says.

“So how about we watch some movies to take your mind off this?” Candy suggests.

“That sounds wonderful,” Mabel says. Anything that can force her to stop thinking about the situation sounds pretty great right now.

“I’ll pop some popcorn,” Grenda says.

“Just nothing sad,” Mabel specifies, “I don’t think I’m emotionally stable enough for something like that.” Candy nods her head, and pulls out a saccharine high school romcom that is exactly what Mabel needs to forget about the ache in her heart. She shoves her face full of popcorn, listens to Candy and Grenda crack jokes, and tries to forget about the entire situation. She tries to forget about Pacifica, and her stupid cute face and luscious hair and light, musical laugh.

She almost succeeds.


	6. The Calm Before a Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dates, and the preparation for Summerween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, baby!! Okay, so sorry. This fic was kind of put on the back burner for my halloween fic and all of the mabifica week fics. But this one is top priority again, for anyone who's interested enough to read it.

Dates, Dipper has decided, are probably the best thing in the world. Even if they just go to the skating rink, or the movie theater, or even an adventure in the woods. It’s somehow way more fun to do it when it’s just the two of them and they’re dating.

 

Today, it’s a hot, hellish Wednesday evening, and it’s Dipper’s turn to decide where they go. He suggests that they go bowling. Pacifica reluctantly agrees, and then they drive over to the bowling alley. It reeks of cigarette smoke and body odor, and Pacifica almost turns around the moment that they enter.

“At least give it a chance,” Dipper asks. Pacifica rolls her eyes, but she keep walking past the arcade games and to the counter. Dipper asks the cashier for two pairs of shoes and one lane to play in. 

“That’ll be ten bucks,” he says, “if you want both a lane and a pair of shoes for both you and the lady.”

“Wait?” Pacifica asks, “shoes?”

“You rent shoes,” the guy at the counter clarifies, and then he takes out a pair to show them. At one point, these shoes were white. Now they're an off brown color and Dipper can almost see the stench coming off of them. They look like average, run of the mill bowling shoes. 

“I am _not_ putting those things on my feet,” Pacifica says in obvious disgust. Dipper sighs, but he realizes that he’s fighting a losing battle.

“Sorry,” he says, “but I don’t think we’ll be bowling today.” The guy seems entirely disinterested in them, so Dipper doesn’t feel all that bad. Instead they end up going to the mini golf course across the street. Pacifica, of course, wipes the floor with him. He doesn’t mind being beaten nearly as much when it’s by her. He doesn’t really appreciate the laughter when he misses by a mile, though. It throws his concentration off and adds like four strokes to his already high score. 

 

Eventually, they finish up the course. Pacifica ends with a perfect score of eighteen, and Dipper doesn't know his score. He stopped keeping track after one hundred and seventeen. 

 

Pacifica sits down after completing their final hole. Dipper gives up after ten swings and sits down next to her. 

“You tired?” he asks.

“You could say that,” she says with something that’s almost a smile.

“We don’t have to keep on doing stuff today,” he says, “like, if you need to go take a nap or something.” Just because Dipper doesn’t believe in sleep doesn’t mean that everyone else doesn’t as well.

“Dipper,” Pacifica says, “I’m fine.” She doesn’t really sound like she’s fine, but he’s sure that if it were something important, something that she wanted him to fix then she’d tell him.

She sighs, and then says, “Actually, there was something that I was on my mind.”

“What?” he asks, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn’t want to pry, but he does know that communication is super important for any sort of relationship. This is a step in the right direction.

“You know,” Pacifica says, “I think that this would have been a lot more fun with Mabel.” Okay, that’s less of a step in the right direction.

“What?” he asks, a little nervously, “why?”

“She would have been competition, for one,” Pacifica jokes. Dipper can tell that there’s something else that Pacifica’s wanting to say.

“You want Mabel to come?” he asks. He’s not above admitting that he’s a little jealous of how much better Mabel is with people, even his own girlfriend.

“Mabel’s my friend,” she settles on, “and I haven’t really seen her in _forever.”_ The way that she says friend is strange, as if she wasn’t certain what word to use. Dipper supposes it’s just because she’s not used to having friends.

“How about tomorrow?” he suggests, not altogether happy with the idea, “we could play board games, just like old times.”

“I’m not sure that three weeks ago counts as old times, Dipper,” Pacifica says.

“Well,” he says, a little nervously, “it’s kinda been a big three weeks. A lot of changes.”

 He slowly reaches his arm around her, and then lets it hang. He nervously waits to see her reaction. She doesn’t freak out or scream or yell or get angry, and they just sort of sit there in semi-comfortable silence.

_Mission accomplished_ , he thinks. Now he’s just got like seventy five more steps of the plan to go, but getting past step six, wrapping an arm around her is a pretty big milestone.

* * *

 

The next morning, Dipper tries to wake up at a reasonable time. That turns out being about 10:30, but Mabel’s still downstairs so he takes that as a small victory. Ever since he and Pacifica started dating, Mabel’s been gone almost every morning by the time that he wakes up and hasn't gotten home until midnight or later. He supposes that she’s just been having a really great time catching up with Candy and Grenda.

 “Hey,” he says, sitting down next to his sister on the couch.

“Um,” she says, “hey Dip. Is it one o’clock already?” She takes out her phone to actually check, and Dipper rolls his eyes.

“I am capable of getting up earlier than that,” he claims.

“Really?” she asks, “because I’m like ninety percent sure that this is the first time you’ve been up before noon all summer.” He sends her a glare.

“What are you doing up this early?” she asks, “anything special going on?” 

“Yeah, kind of at least. Pacifica thought that we should hang out today,” Dipper says, “all three of us.”

“Um,” Mabel says, “I kind of already had plans.” She sounds uncomfortable, but Dipper can’t really place why.

“Please, Mabel,” he asks, “Pacifica really wants you to.”

“Alright,” Mabel says, reluctantly. It seems that neither of them can say no to Pacifica. Mabel turns on the tv, and they don’t really speak until Pacifica gets there half an hour later.

 

Mabel gets the door, and Pacifica immediately engulfs her in a hug. His girlfriend wasn’t lying, she must have really missed Mabel. His sister looks highly uncomfortable. Which is really, _really_ weird. Mabel is the most physically affectionate person that Dipper’s ever met.

“Alright,” Mabel says, trying to regain her composure after Pacifica finally breaks the hug, “what do you want to play, Paz?”

“What do you think?” Pacifica asks, and then they all three start laughing.

 

Pacifica wipes the floor with both of them in monopoly. It’s so bad that Dipper considers just selling out to Mabel and then working as a team against the powerhouse that is his girlfriend. Dipper doesn’t, though, because he’s fairly sure that Pacifica would _still_ beat them. And that would be really, really embarrassing.

 

They take out Ein at Dipper’s request, and start playing the incredibly intense card game before Pacifica breaks all of their concentration.

 “Mabel,” she says. Mabel doesn’t seem to hear her, and lies down another blue card.

“Mabel?” Pacifica asks again. Mabel does look up from her cards this time.

“What is it, Paz?” she asks.

“You remember the sweaters?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Mabel says, almost sounding wistful, “what about them?”

“What happened to them?” Pacifica clarifies.

 “Um,” Mabel says, “I kind of forgot about them.” They both just stare at her because it seems out of character. Mabel seems to notice.

“I’ve been busy lately,” she says, defensively. Dipper frowns. It’s really not like Mabel to forget about a project. Pacifica frowns, and looks incredibly disappointed by this.

Mabel’s look softens as this and she says, “I’ll get back to it, I promise.” They finish up the game of Ein in silence, until Dipper finally has one card left and shouts, “Ein!” Both Pacifica and Mabel try to talk about how to sabotage him, but as always, Dipper has saved a wild card for last. He takes the game in an easy stroke and brags a bit too. Mabel rolls her eyes, but it’s her turn to choose next.

 

She takes out Politically Incorrect Cards, and Dipper groans. That settles that. Mabel’s going to win this one. Mabel is creative in all of the best and worst ways, and she always ends up coming up with the best answers, even if they aren’t inappropriate. Dipper always ends up putting down the most logical card, and Pacifica only ever puts down the most inappropriate card she can find. Mabel is going to destroy them yet again. He decides to delay the inevitable and start up a conversation that he really should have started up earlier.

“So,” he says, “Summerween is coming up.”  

“It’s this Monday,” Mabel says.

Pacifica says, “Didn’t you say something about how you two always wear matching costumes.”

“Yes,” Dipper says, reluctantly.

“What if we all wore matching costumes?” Pacifica suggests, “we are the mystery squad, right?” \

Mabel’s face softens at that, and she says, “Alright. I could get behind that.”

“It’s got to be a famous trio,” Dipper says, “easily recognizable.”

“Well,” Mabel says, “we could be Luke, Leia, and Han.”

“Who would be who?” he asks.

“Obviously, Paz would be Han,” Mabel says, “and you’d be Luke and I’d be Leia.”

“But Han and Leia are together,” he protests. He doesn’t really like the implication that his girlfriend and his sister are dating.

“Would you rather be Leia?” Mabel asks in a snarky tone, and Dipper blushes.

“How about we just scrap that idea?” he suggests. Both Pacifica and Mabel agree.

“How about Harry, Ron and Hermione?” Pacifica suggests.

“No,” Mabel says, “I don’t think that would work.” They toss a few more options in the air, but it turns out that none of them really feel right.

“How about the trio from Wicked?” Mabel suggests.

“Wicked?” Dipper asks.

“You know that musical that I love,” she says, “the one about Oz. And Defying Gravity.”

“I couldn’t get that song out of my head for a _month,”_ Dipper complains, and then Mabel giggles.

“Alright,” Pacifica says, “who’s the trio?”

“Well,” Mabel says, “there’s the blonde one. Galinda. She’s the good witch from the Wizard of Oz. And then there’s Elphaba. That’s the wicked witch of the West. The musical centers around them and their... friendship.”

“Is there a guy in this story?” Dipper asks.

“Um, yeah,” Mabel says a little dismissively, “you can be Fiyero.”

“Which one does he end up with?” he asks.

“Elphaba,” Mabel says, “but he was with Galinda earlier in the story.”

“Mabel,” he says, “either way that’s gonna make me kind of uncomfortable.” He likes the implication that he's dating his sister even less than he likes the implication that his sister is dating his girlfriend. 

“We can always go back to Star Wars,” she suggests, “I’ve still got that Leia wig from three years ago.”

“Fine, whatever,” he says, “Wicked it is. You can be the wicked witch, Pacific can be the good witch, and I can be.. what was his name again?”

“Fiyero,” Mabel says, “he becomes the scarecrow.”

“Oh,” he says, “that sounds like a lot of work.”

Mabel rolls her eyes, “I can help you, if you want.”

“Wait,” Pacifica says, “if Elphaba’s the wicked witch of the West, does that mean you have to be-“

“Green as Dipper gets when he's sick,” Mabel says with an evil grin.

“Mabel!” Dipper shouts. They both giggle at that, and then he sighs. He doesn’t really mind that Mabel makes jokes at his expense, but he wishes that they weren’t so constant sometimes.

“Are we going to go to a party,” Mabel asks, “or are we going to go trick-or-treating?”

“We’re way too old to go trick-or-treating,” Dipper says.

“Wait,” Pacifica says, with a big, wide grin on her face, “is trick-or-treating an option?”

“Yeah,” Mabel says, “of course.”

“I’ve never been trick-or-treating before,” Pacifica says.

“Never?” Mabel asks in shock, “never ever?”

“Uh, no,” Pacifica says. Mabel looks at him like he’s done something terrible.

“You would _deprive_ your girlfriend of an essential life experience,” Mabel accuses.

“No,” Dipper says defensively, “of course not.”

“How about we go trick-or-treating first,” Pacifica suggets, “and then we go to the party.”

“Compromise,” Mabel says excitedly, “I love it.” Dipper loves it a lot less, but he supposes that it will work. Eventually he and Pacifica will get to go to the party Wendy always puts on. He can’t wait for that part of the night, even if he does have to dress up like a scarecrow. Mabel stands up, actually leaving all of the cards in front of her on the table. Dipper's honestly shocked. Mabel never passes up a chance to beat them at Politically Incorrect Cards. 

“I’m going to get to work on these costumes,” She says as she makes her way to her room.

“Wait,” Pacifica asks, “Summerween’s in like five days, Mabel. Are you sure you can get them done in time?”

“Never doubt the power of Mabel, Paz,” Mabel shouts as she disappears into her room. Pacifica laughs, loudly and genuinely, and Dipper feels those butterflies again. There aren’t many sounds that he likes better than that one.

“God I missed her,” Pacifica says. Her words sound so raw and full of emotion. Pacifica almost never lets herself sound that vulnerable. He didn’t really expect that it would come about from her missing Mabel.

“You know,” Dipper says, half not believing his own words, “I did too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot's a coming, y'all. it's coming


	7. Summerween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiraeth: a homesickness for a home you cannot return to, or that never was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assuming that hell is a real place, I’m going there for writing this chapter. 
> 
> Check the end for warnings. There are quite a few for this chapter

In their group chat the morning of Summerween, Mabel makes it clear that they need to be at the Shack by four thirty. Apparently, it’s going to take a solid two and a half hours for her to get everyone ready. Pacifica’s honestly a little afraid of what all this will entail.

 

She finds out pretty quickly that this entails curling her entire head of hair, and putting on a poofy, sparkly pink prom dress that Mabel made herself. Mabel starts curling her hair, and Pacifica decides that it’s the perfect sort of time to try to get some info about _Wicked_. Pacifica’s sure that there has to be a reason that Mabel suggested those particular characters for them to dress up as. She just has to figure out what it is. She sits down in the arm chair in Mabel’s room, and the enormous, puffy dress forms a cloud of fabric around her. She has to shove it down so that it isn’t blocking her face.

 

“ _So_ ,” Pacifica says, as she straightens up her dress, “what’s the story behind Galinda and Elphaba.” She feels like Mabel gave them both a watered down version beforehand, and Pacifica’s interested in whatever she left out. She must really love the musical if she was willing to put enough time and effort into these outfits to make them look _this_ good.

“It’s a little hard to explain,” Mabel says as she grabs the curling wand and starts fiddling with Pacifica’s hair.

“I’m dressed up like one of them,” Pacifica says, “I’m willing to listen.” Mabel grins a little at that, and decides to tell Pacifica a bit about the musical.

“Okay, so you know how the musical’s about the Wicked Witch of the West and the good witch?” Mabel asks. Pacifica nods her head expectantly, waiting for Mabel to continue.

“They went to college together,” Mabel tells her dramatically.

“Wait,” Pacifica says skeptically, “ _Wicked_ is just a _Wizard of Oz_ college au?” She’s read some of the fanfiction that Mabel shoved in her face, and none of it was particularly good. She couldn’t imagine a _college_ au being the premise of whatever world-changing musical Mabel’s decided that they have to dress up as. She can’t imagine a college au amounting to much of anything.

Mabel rolls her eyes, and says, “It’s really good. Just trust me.” Pacifica sends her a skeptical look, but Mabel proceeds with her story as if nothing had happened.

“Galinda and Elphaba became roommates, and they couldn’t stand each other,” Mabel says, “which is one of the reasons they reminded me of us.” Mabel grins as she says this, almost fondly. Sometimes Pacifica doesn’t even understand how Mabel was able to forgive her for those days, and she’ll never understand how Mabel ended up deeming those days as “fond memories”.

“Elphaba had to leave Galinda,” Mabel says, her voice sounding a little bit strained, and much softer than normal, “because life set them on different paths. She had to leave her even though she loved her.” Her voice is almost broken, like she’s talking about more than just Elphaba and Galinda, A few moments later, a smile returns to Mabel’s face, and Pacifica wonders if the girl was even feeling down a moment before, if she might have just imagined the whole thing.

“How about I just play the soundtrack?” Mabel suggests.

“That sounds good,” Pacifica agrees, and she listens as Galinda narrates the story of Elphaba’s birth, as they sing about their hatred of each other, and as Galinda refuses to leave with Elphaba. Halfway through, Mabel finishes with her hair and moves on to her makeup, and the characters just keep singing. She listens as Galinda tries to cover up her grief, and as they sing about how the other has changed their life. _Wicked_ seems like an incredibly emotional musical. As the final notes of that song play, Mabel finally finishes up Pacifica’s makeup.

“Voilà!” Mabel says, handing Pacifica a handheld mirror. Pacifica holds it up, and realizes that she looks like a movie star. Her makeup is a flamboyant, purple-ish shade of pink and her hair is curled in perfect ringlets that make her look a bit like a doll. Judging by the way that Galinda sounds in the musical, that’s exactly what Mabel was going for.

“Mabel, it’s-“  
“Gorgeous, right?” Mabel says. Pacifica rolls her eyes.

“Someone’s full of herself,” Pacifica says.

“Never doubt the power of Mabel, Paz,” the other girl tells her. Then Mabel gets herself ready, which surprisingly doesn’t take nearly as long as helping Pacifica get ready did. Mabel has to paint her whole (visible) body green, but apparently that takes less effort than Pacifica’s hair and makeup did. Mabel emerges from the bathroom in a long, black dress; a black, pointy hat; and all of her visible skin painted a bright shade of green. Her eyes dart to Dipper, who’s still wearing his street clothes. She looks extremely unhappy when she realizes this.

“You didn’t even put on your costume!” Mabel shouts angrily.

“I thought that I had time!” he complains, “you two were in there _forever-“_

“Go put it on!” Mabel orders, “We’re already running late!” Dipper grumbles, but he grabs the outfit off of the couch, and hauls his ass into the bathroom. Pacifica doesn’t mean to giggle, but she does.

A few minutes later, Dipper emerges in full scarecrow garb, overalls with straw sticking out of them and all. The outfit looks ridiculously authentic, but Pacifica supposes she shouldn’t have expected any less. This is Mabel Pines that made these. This is the same Mabel that created the sets, costumes, _and_ did the makeup for all of her school plays. She’s a one woman artistic army.

“Now sit on the couch,” Mabel tells him. He grumbles as he does.

“Paz, get me my makeup,” Mabel asks. Pacifica grabs the bag, and hands it to her. Mabel descends upon her brother with her brushes and all of her willpower, and sets to work trying to make him look like a scarecrow. Dipper squirms as Mabel does his makeup, and it only takes a minute for Mabel to put a stop to it.

“Stop fidgeting,” Mabel scolds, “do you want me to put this makeup on or not?”

“Not really,” Dipper says. Mabel just rolls her eyes.

“I could let you go out like this, then,” Mabel says, “half made-up, half not. It would look awful.”

“Fine,” Dipper groans, and Pacifica can see that he’s at least trying to hold still now. It still makes her laugh. Dipper starts to look more and more like scarecrow as the minutes tick by. Mabel finishes only two minutes before she planned to leave.

“I AM FINISHED!” Mabel shouts as she holds her brushes triumphantly in the air.

“Oh thank god,” Dipper mutters. Mabel shoves the handheld mirror in Dipper’s face next, and he looks taken aback.

“Wow, Mabel,” he says, sounding thoroughly impressed, “I don’t even recognize myself.”

“You’ve just been Mabel-fied,” she tells him, and she drags him harshly up from the couch. Then she grabs Pacifica and pushes them all closely together.

“Mabel?” Pacifica asks, “What are you doing?”  

“It’s selfie time,” Mabel says as she holds up her phone. They all lean in and she snaps a shot of the three of them, looking happy and excited in their world class Halloween costumes.

“This was the _perfect_ Instagram-ortunity!” she says, and she quickly posts the pic. Then, she checks the time.

“Okay,” she says, “it’s seven ten. If we leave right now, we’ll have almost three hours of prime trick-or-treating time.”

Pacifica grins and says, “let’s get started, then.” The two run towards the door, Dipper trailing slightly, but still right behind.

 

Trick-or-treating, Pacifica discovers, is actually really fun. She suspects that it would have been more fun when she was eight or nine, but Pacifica enjoys it enough as a teenager. Mabel knows how to make anything fun, and Dipper tries. He obviously doesn’t want to be trick-or-treating, but Dipper tries to pretend to be having fun for her, and she appreciates it.

The adults all glare at them. They send them looks that say _you are way too old for this and you should be ashamed,_ but they still give them candy, so Pacifica doesn’t feel _too_ bad. She looks fabulous thanks to Mabel, and she’s having fun. She finally gets to do this thing her parents never let her do. Small rebellions are a sweet sort of revenge.

“Only _common_ people go out begging for candy, Pacifica,” her father had told her, when she was seven and excitable and not too scared to ask yet. Now she’s getting to do so with the Pines twins, who are somehow simultaneously the most “common” and most unique and amazing people that she’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. She doesn’t think that she’ll ever be able to regret getting close to them, even when this whole thing inevitably blows up in her face. Even when it gets her sent away.

“I think that this is about the end of the night,” Mabel says, and Pacifica supposes that she’s right. There are only three groups of actual kids that are still trick-or-treating, and Pacifica doubts if the kids’ parents will let them stay out much past 11:00.

“I’d better get over to Grenda’s,” Mabel says, a little awkwardly, “she and Candy are waiting for me.”

“You could come over to the party with us,” Pacifica offers, almost desperately. Other than their game experience, she hasn’t seen Mabel for three weeks. Somehow, not seeing Mabel has only made her like her _more,_ and Pacifica misses her like old people miss the good ole days where the sun always shined and there were no problems in the world. She misses her the way someone can only miss something that they never truly had.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Mabel says, and Pacifica’ heart shatters like a glass thrown harshly against concrete.

 _You wouldn’t be,_ she almost says, but she doesn’t. She stops herself before she lets the words leave her lips. That would be admitting something that she’s not ready to say yet. According to what Mabel knows, she _would_ be intruding. She would be the third wheel, an unwanted, third harmony in their couple’s duet.

God, Pacifica wishes that that’s the way things were. It would be so much easier than this stupid, tangled mess she’s woven for herself. Her life would be so much easier if she were straight.

* * *

 

By the time that they get to the party, Pacifica feels like a pile of shit. Not just any shit, but a huge pile of fresh, half green, _watery_ horse shit that the flies have just started to infest. She wonders if Dipper can smell the waves of stench that are coming off of her.

 

Michael Jackson’s _Thriller_ plays as they enter the house, and the lights are down low. A few people are dancing, flailing their arms wildly to the beat, but most of the party’s inhabitants are standing or sitting around, drinking from red plastic cups surely laced with strong alcohol or straight from the beer can. Then, of course, there’s a couple making out quickly and frantically in the corner. Pacifica’s fairly sure the clothes are going to start coming off soon. Somehow, Dipper’s gotten them into a drinking party. A wave of childish, giddy joy shoots through her as she realizes what that can mean for her. She feels guilty, and resentful and _dirty,_ and all she wants is to make it all stop.

“Um,” Dipper says, as he takes in his new, colorful and securely R-rated setting, “so this is new.” He sounds awkward, and more than a little uncomfortable. Pacifica doesn’t think that he knew what he was getting them into.

“We could leave if you want,” he says. Pacifica’s observant enough that she can tell that _he’s the one that want to leave._ He just doesn’t say so because he doesn’t want to look lame. But Pacifica doesn’t want to back out, she wants to drink away her sorrows and sees if she drowns in them.

“Come on, Dipper,” she says, grabbing his hand. It always feels so weird, feeling his hand in hers. It doesn’t feel right, not at all, but she’s committed to this farce. She has to stick with it. There’s no way out that doesn’t end with a heartbroken Dipper and either a Pacifica that looks like a complete and absolute jerk, or one that’s divulged a secret she’s too scared to even speak aloud.

“Don’t you wanna see what one of these parties is like?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, trying to sound like he’s not nervous, “of course. It’ll be… fun?” They find the area where the kids have set up a makeshift bar.

“So what’ll you be having, pretty lady,” the guy with the stubbly chin and the abundance of machete body spray asks her.

She rolls her eyes, and says, “I’ll take a shot of vodka.” She’s never drank before, but she knows that vodka’s hard and she wants to get _plastered._ She wants to get so plastered that the world melts away and she doesn’t feel any of the emotions that are eroding away at her.

“ _Vodka_?” Dipper asks, looking skeptically at the shot glass in front of her. Dipper knows that neither of them have ever finished so much as a full can of beer.

“You scarred, Dipper?” She asks. She doesn’t really mean for it to come out mocking, but it does. Derision has always been her default. Dipper glares.

“I’ll take a shot too,” he says, trying to lower his voice and sound tough and manly. Pacifica grins. Dipper Pines never backs down from a challenge. That’s something that she can always count on. They down their shots at the same time, and Dipper sputters as the liquid goes down. Pacifica isn’t nearly as vocal about it, but the liquid sears at her throat all the same. It feels a bit like how she thinks drinking lava would feel, and tastes like rubbing alcohol smells. The kid behind the kitchen counter laughs at them.

“First time?” he asks.

“How observant,” Pacifica dead-pans. The guy puts his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry,” he says, “it’s not every party I get to watch someone lose their vodka virginity. But to see two of you? That’s like winning the lottery, man.”

“Another,” Pacifica asks, setting her shot glass on the table. Dipper sighs, but he follows suit. The guy sends them skeptical looks, but fills up the glasses at their request. She downs her second shot, and it goes down a little easier this time. Even Dipper’s able to gulp it down calmly, though she knows it doesn’t taste any better this time. Pacifica sets her glass down, and decides that she’s feeling lucky. She doesn’t know how much alcohol a woman her size can handle, but she thinks that three shots of vodka will have her drunk enough in thirty minutes’ time.

“Another,” she says, setting her glass in front of her. Dipper looks at her in shock.

“Another?” he asks, barely masking his horror at the prospect/

“I’m not giving you more than two,” the guy says, “your bodies don’t have a tolerance for this shit yet.”

“Gin then?” she asks, just naming off a random alcohol. She knows so little about the stuff that it’s laughable. The guy considers it for a second, but then seems to decide that gin would be a perfectly acceptable solution.

He gets them each another shot, and gin doesn’t taste any better than vodka. It goes down a little easier though.

“Okay,” Dipper says, a few moments later, “I’m not drinking anymore of that shit. No way in hell.” Pacifica feels her body start to sway, and she decides that she probably shouldn’t drink anything else either. At least nothing else that hard. They wander around the party, making small talk with kids three to five years older than them, and eventually the world starts to get fuzzy. The world gets blurry, and Pacifica’s head starts spinning. She feels like she’s just gotten off the tilt-a-whirl, but the feeling doesn’t lessen at all. It only gets _worse._ She doesn’t feel light and airy, she just feels dizzy and nauseous, and she still feels _dirty._ It doesn’t help that Dipper closes the gap between them on the couch.

He kisses her straight on the mouth, alcohol on his breath and passion in its wake.

“Get a room!” one of the girls sitting on the floor squeals, and she giggles with every word. For some reason, everyone around them erupts into roaring laughter.

“How about we do?” Dipper slurs, and Pacifica can tell that he’s trying to do _something_ with his eyebrows. But his fine motor skills have slowed, and his eyebrows are just sort of twitching and Pacifica’s world’s just spinning ‘round and ‘round like a carousel. She knows it’s an awful idea, deep down, but the part of her that’s living in the moment can’t even think about that. The world is spinning, the music is blaring, and Pacifica can make herself straight.

She laughs her drunken ascent and they ascend the narrow, high stairs to try to “get a room”. They stumble through the narrow hallway, and somehow find themselves in one of the bedrooms. The world is fuzzy and her head is spinning, but she still feels _guilty._

 _Maybe it will work this time_ , a voice in the back of her head whispers _._

 _Maybe maybe maybe maybe_ it chants, and Pacifica slams her lips against Dipper’s and pins the boy against the bed. He grunts in pleasure, voice going half an octave lower than normal. She finds that the opposite of arousing, but his lips are warm and soft enough. For a moment, her fuzzy mind thinks that she’s kissing Mabel. She kisses back, forcefully, and runs her fingers through the hair, which stops fairly abruptly, much to Pacifica’s drunken confusion.

Her partner pulls away for a moment, and murmurs, “Pacifica.” _Dipper,_ she remembers disappointedly as he kisses her again. She’s kissing Dipper, she’s dating Dipper, and she can’t do these things with Mabel. Her hips collide with a part of him that seems to be very worked up about what they’re doing, and whatever part of Pacifica that was into it fizzles off.

His hands run down her back, settling right above her butt, and he kisses back forcefully, passionately. Dipper’s enjoying the hell out of this, she can tell. Pacifica is not. The slight stubble brushing against her chin, the flatness of his chest, the boner digging into her crotch: all of it kills whatever arousal Pacifica might have felt. Everything about it feels _wrong._ She’s never liked a guy as much as she likes Dipper, but god _damn_ it. Pacifica doesn’t like men. She knows now, once and for all, that she can’t force herself to. It’s a terrifying and awful feeling, but she knows that it’s the truth. She can feel it in her gut.

Pacifica pushes off of him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I just- I can’t do this.” He looks dazed, and confused, and guilt surges through her. She can’t believe that she did this to him. The world is spinning, and her head doesn’t feel right, and she can’t believe she did this to him. She can’t believe any of this. It just feels like dizzy, disastrous dream.

“Pacifica,” he says, “things have been going so great.” Her brain’s too addled to pretend. She makes her way out of the bedroom.

“They really haven’t, Dipper,” she says, a sort of bitter, uncomfortable laughter rising within that she’d ever thought this might work.

“Wait,” he asks, “what?” He sounds really small in that moment, and Pacifica doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know how she can possibly explain this to him.

“Just tell me what I did wrong,” he asks, a sort of betrayed confusion on his face. Pacifica’s never felt all that great about herself, but right now she feels like a monster.  

“Nothing!” she shoots back. She doesn’t mean for it to come out as a shout, but it does. It does, and he looks taken aback. Then he looks her straight in the eye.

He asks, with hard anger in his eyes, “What is it, Pacifica?”

“I’m gay, Dipper,” she says, words spewing out unbidden.

She tries to stop, but her big, drunk mouth keeps talking, “a big, gigantic _lesbian.”_ She doesn’t mean to say it, but it just slips out along with the anger and the alcohol. She almost clamps a hand over her mouth to stop the verbal diarrhea.

“What?” he asks. She almost screams at the next question. He wants her to say it again? She groans angrily.

“I’m gay,” she repeats, because the floodgates have already opened, she can’t shut them now, “really, _really_ fucking gay. Like rainbows and violets and _Ellen Degeneres_ sort of gay-” She can feel her face turning bright red, and the anger and fear building in her belly. Pacifica likes Dipper, likes him enough to try to date him, but she doesn’t trust him with this. She doesn’t trust anyone with this. She doesn’t know how it ended up slipping out.

 

Oh, who’s she kidding? It was the alcohol. She’s drunk and angry and guilty, and the thing just slipped out. Now there’s tears pricking at her eyes, and she can’t stay to talk. Pacifica needs to get as far away from this party as possible.

 

“You know what?” Dipper asks, sounding deadly serious. She doesn’t ask what, and hopes that she gets out of the room before she hears the rest.

“You really are the worst” he finishes, and she bounds down the stairs, tears finally streaming down her face.

 

It’s probably stupid, and an awful idea, but Pacifica walks home. It’s only a block away, but she staggers drunkenly through the darkness of Summerween. She hopes that someone murders her at the same time as she hopes that no one does.

 

She gets home, and she pukes her guts out into her pristine, ivory toilet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: this chapter contains the biggest heel-face-turn that I've ever written.  
> DRUNKNESS  
> An author who knows little about alcohol and nothing about being drunk writes about that.  
> Drunk kissing with dubious consent on both sides  
> Internalized homophobia


	8. Fall Out Girls (and Boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Pacifica have broken up, and Dipper won't tell Mabel what happened. She decides that she has to ask Paz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy update day! This chapter was giving me major troubles, friends, but it's finally done and posted. 
> 
> If everything goes according to plan, the chapter after this will be the last. Enjoy the penultimate chapter!!!!!

Mabel and her friends watch cheesy Halloween movies long into the night, and then she sleeps the night away. Mabel finally peels herself off of Grenda’s couch at ten thirty the next morning.

“I should probably get back to the Shack,” Mabel says groggily.

“But Mabel,” Candy says“we still have to watch the Glowing-“

“And that one about yelling,” Grenda says.

“I told Wendy that I’d cover a shift for her in an hour,” Mabel says.

“Ugh,” Grenda says, “ _working_.” Mabel rolls her eyes.

“Working sucks,” Mabel admits, “but working at the Shack’s not that bad. It’s pretty much just like being at home.” Plus, she’s gotten to the point where Grunkle Stan lets her peddle her art at the Shack, and she has much better luck in the sales department when she’s there to advertise it.

“Alright,” Candy says, “but text us if you need us.” Mabel knows what Candy’s referring to, but she hopes, desperately that it won’t come it that. She hopes that whatever might or might not have happened between her crush and her brother last night, she never has to hear about it. She doesn’t think that she could handle any sordid details.

 

She drives back to the Shack, and she gets there around eleven o’clock. Wendy wasn’t supposed to work until eleven thirty, so Mabel has thirty minutes to make herself presentable and find out how hung over her brother is. Dipper had said he was taking Pacifica to one of Wendy’s parties, and Mabel knows what happens at Wendy’s parties. Wendy asked her to cover her shift for a reason.

 

Mabel decides that the second issue is more pressing, and she ascends the stairs to the room that she and Dipper used to share.  Unsurprisingly, Dipper is still asleep when she opens his door. It doesn’t really matter, though. Mabel’s not opposed to waking him up. She’ll pry what happened last night out of her brother if it’s the last thing she does. She turns on the lights, but apparently that isn’t drastic enough to wake him up. Mabel walks across his floor, avoiding his piles of dirty laundry the way that she would avoid booby traps on an action movie sort of adventure.

 

Mabel opens up the curtains, and the sunlight pours into the room. Dipper groans loudly, and turns over to his stomach. He buries his head into his pillow.

 “You’re hung over, aren’t you,” Mabel says. It isn’t a question, but Dipper groans anyways. She’ll take that as a yes.

Then Mabel asks, “Did Paz get home alright?” She _needs_ to know that Pacifica’s alright. She doesn’t want to know any other details from that night, but she needs to know that Pacifica ended up safe at her mansion. People do bad things to drunk girls when they’re left alone.

“I don’t know,” he says, sounding uncomfortable. Obviously, he doesn’t want to talk about whatever happened.

“You don’t know?” she asks incredulously. She can’t believe that her brother would just leave Pacifica without knowing she was alright.

“We broke up,” he says, “and then she stormed out.” It sounds like that’s as much as he wants to say on the subject, but there’s no way that Mabel’s going to let it lie after _that._

“You.. you broke up?” Mabel asks. She doesn’t know what he actually said, but she must have heard him wrong. There’s _no_ way that he just said they broke up. They were so sickeningly sweet together.

“Yes,” he says, irritation thick in his voice, “now will you leave me alone?”

“But why?” Mabel asks. Those two had seemed so happy. She couldn’t imagine why they would break up so suddenly.

“That’s Pacifica’s story to tell,” he tells her.

“What does that even mean?” Mabel asks. Instead of saying real words, Dipper just groans again.

“Why can’t just tell me?” she asks. They don’t normally talk about relationship issues, but they talk about everything else. Mabel doesn’t see why they can’t just talk about this now .

“Look,” he says, sounding both ill and irritated, “if Pacifica wants to tell you what happened, she can. But this isn’t my story to tell.”

“It isn’t your story to tell?” Mabel nearly shouts, “But it was your break up! You were a part of it too.” She’s becoming really frustrated.

“It’s not that simple,” he tells her, and he rubs his forehead with his hand. Mabel can’t tell if it’s because of the hang over or because he’s trying to say that she’s being stupid.

“Dipper-“

“It’s Pacifica’s story to tell,” Dipper says. He glares at her as he pulls the covers over his head.

“Dip-“

“Go away!” he groans.  Mabel lets out a frustrated sigh, but decides that she’s barking up the wrong tree. Apparently, if she wants answers about this situation she’s going to have to ask Paz.  Dipper seems to have decided that he can’t talk about it. Mabel goes downstairs and pulls her hair into a ponytail before she goes to take over the counter. Then, she decides to shoot Pacifica a text.

“Paz?” Mabel texts.

“Mabel?” the other girl texts back, “what is it?” Mabel feels a wave of relief run through her. Pacifica’s alright.   

“Can we meet in the woods or something? I need to talk to you,” she sends.

“Right now?” Pacifica sends back.

“No,” Mabel says, “I’m working rn. How about 5ish?”

“Alright,” Pacifica responds, and Mabel supposes that means the conversation is over.

 

Her shift goes quickly enough. She sells a significant amount of Mystery Shack merchandise, and even sells a few of her own sweaters and paintings. She considers her shift a success. Hopefully, the rest of the day will be as well. She grabs a jacket out of her room before she goes, and realizes that Dipper still hasn’t gotten up. Either that, or he’s avoiding her. Mabel’s not sure which possibility she finds more concerning.

 

* * *

 

Pacifica is already sitting down against a tree when Mabel gets there, and Mabel sits down beside her on the soft, green grass.

“Hey Paz,” Mabel says, smiling at her. Pacifica smiles back, but she doesn’t bother with the pleasantries.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” Pacifica asks.

“Can’t a girl just want to talk to her friend?” Mabel asks skeptically.

“You’ve been avoiding me for a month, Mabel,” Pacifica says, “I know that something brought this on.”

“Yeah,” Mabel says, awkwardly. Maybe this wasn’t all that great of an idea. She had been doing such a great job of avoiding Pacifica before Summerween, but now the other girl surely hates her. And now that Pacifica and Dipper have broken up, there’s nothing tying her to Mabel. Pacifica will probably never want to see her again after this. Mabel’s been a really shitty friend because she wanted to be more than friends.

“So?” Pacifica asks, “what is it Mabel?” She doesn’t sound irritated really, just nervous. She sounds like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mabel supposes that Pacifica always has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, having parents like hers. Mabel tries to speak gently. She doesn’t want to upset Paz.

Mabel says, “I heard that you and Dip broke up?” Pacifica freezes in her tracks, absolute terror in her eyes.

“Did he tell you what happened?” she asks. Her tone is frantic, though she’s trying to cover that up. Mabel’s lucky that she can read her.

“No,” Mabel assures her, “he said that it was your story to tell.” Pacifica doesn’t physically let out of a sigh of relief, but Mabel can see a good amount of the tension in her body melt away. Whatever happened between her and Dipper, Pacifica must really not want to get out. Mabel almost decides not to pry anymore. _Almost_

“Paz,” Mabel says softly, “what happened between you two?”

“It’s nothing,” Pacifica says, but her voice is tight and unnatural, “just normal breakup stuff. We were going different directions.”

“You could tell me anything,” Mabel says, “Dip’s my brother, and I love him to death. But you’re- you’re my best friend.” She settles on. Pacifica stiffens at that. It’s probably because Mabel hasn’t been there for her this past month.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Mabel says, “but I promise you that I wouldn’t judge you, or tell anyone or any one of those awful things that must be going through your mind.”

“I don’t deserve you Mabel,” Pacifica says as she curls around her knees in front of her.

“Of course you do,” she says. If either of them doesn’t deserve the other, it’s Mabel not deserving Paz. She’s the one that ruined a perfectly good friendship by going and falling in love with the girl. She’s the one caught between her brother and her crush, unable to pick a side or even figure out what happened.

“I did a bad thing, Mabel,” she says. She sounds small, and terrified and _guilty_. Mabel knows that whatever she did, she doesn’t deserve to feel this guilty and afraid. She holds the other girl’s hand in hers. Pacifica Northwest is one of the best things that’s ever happened to her, and there’s no reason for her to feel this way.

“Last night,” she says, “I-I broke up with Dipper.” She doesn’t keep speaking, and then Mabel thinks that must have been the bad thing. She starts to laugh.

“Paz,” Mabel says, “you’re allowed to break up with people, even if they’re Dipper. You don’t have to keep dating people that you don’t like anymore.” Pacifica’s face falls, and she looks even guiltier.

“I never liked him, Mabes,” she says, sounding ashamed. Mabel blinks her large brown eyes in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she asks. She doesn’t understand. Of course Pacifica liked Dipper- that’s why she agreed to go out with him in the first place. That’s why Mabel never stood a chance.

“I-I don’t like men, Mabel,” Pacifica says, every word sounding strained, laborious, as if they’re painful to say. _Oh god,_ Mabel thinks.

“I’m a lesbian,” she finishes softly, her voice as faint as the wind. Her face turns bright red, and she buries in her hands. The air catches in Mabel’s chest, and she knows that she should not consider _this_ a victory. Someone should tell that to her heart. She doesn’t speak for a long time, but the awkward atmosphere and the questions finally weigh her down.

“Paz,” she asks slowly, as if talking to a wounded animal, “if you’re a lesbian, then why did you date Dipper?”

“That was the bad thing, Mabel. The _terrible_ thing,” she says, “I’m going to burn in hell, god, I already know, Mabes.”

 “Paz,” she says, “I’m pan. I don’t have any problem with the lesbian part.” Her problem lies in the other girl playing with Dipper’s heart, and with her own. Her problem lies in the fact that she’s already forgiven her for it.

“I’m an awful person,” Pacifica says into her knees, as if she didn’t even hear what Mabel said.

“That’s not what I said,” Mabel says, “Paz, I don’t think that about you.” Mabel couldn’t never think that about her. Mabel thinks Pacifica could rip her beating heart out of her chest and she’d end up forgiving her. 

“But it’s true,” Pacifica says, “I-I used him. I thought that because I like him, maybe I could make myself straight if I dated him. He looks so much like you and I like him so much but it didn’t _work!_ It didn’t work at all.”  _He looks like you,_ Mabel thinks, and for a moment she's giddy at the possibility that Pacifica might like her. But then, then she remembers what she did. 

Mabel doesn’t know what she should feel. There’s the part of her that’s angry, angry that Pacifica used her brother and angry that she lied. And of course there's the part that's giddy Pacifica might like her. Then there’s the part of her that feels terrible not only for the other feelings but about the whole ordeal. And then, there's the part of her that wants to kiss her, but the faint voice of reason inside her head reminds her that this isn’t the time for that. This is the time for answers. Mabel would bet her college fund that Pacifica’s parents are the cause of this internalized self-hatred and homophobia.

Mabel takes a deep breath, and takes a chance.

“What would your parents do if they found out?” she asks.  

“They already know,” Pacifica says.

“They already know?” Mabel asks, sounding incredibly concerned. Knowing Pacifica’s parents, Mabel doubts if that went well.

“One of the older kids at my boarding school caught me and my girlfriend making out sophomore year,” she says, “then the school called up my parents. They had me transferred. Then they sent me to one of those camps last summer, you know? The gay correction ones?”

“A gay correction camp?” Mabel asks. She can hear the disgust in her tone.

“Yes,” Pacifica says, looking at her hands in her lap, “it wasn’t nearly as bad as one of those conversion centers. They just, they made sure to watch us, and remind us of what was proper. And what... _wasn't_.”

“But afterwards my parents said,” she says, taking a deep breath and trying to force herself to continue, “they said if it happened again they wouldn’t be so lenient. They’d send me to the worst conversion center possible… and if that didn’t fix me….” Paz trails off at that, and keeps starring at her fingers, tears streaming down her face. She doesn’t speak for a long time, and Mabel doesn’t bug her to. Pacifica doesn’t have to elaborate if she doesn’t want to. Mabel squeezes her hand, and Pacifica laughs, a bitter, humorless sound.

“I don’t deserve you,” she says.

“Stop saying that,” Mabel says. She doesn’t want Pacifica to hate herself. She wants Paz to love herself as much as Mabel loves her.

“Mabel,” Pacifica says, voice hoarse and guilt-ridden and eyes dripping with teardrops. Mabel takes a deep breath. She wants to kiss her, but she decides that’s not what either of them need right now. Instead, she engulfs the other girl in a big, warm hug. Pacifica melts into it, digging her head into the crook of Mabel’s neck. Mabel can feel the teardrops dripping onto the fabric of her sweater.

“It’s alright,” Mabel says softly. Instead of awkwardly patting the other girl’s back, like she would with Dipper, she slowly runs her hands over it. She hopes that it feels comforting. Pacifica sniffles, and then she breaks the hug. She forces herself to stand, and Mabel stands up along with her. 

“Paz?” Mabel asks. Pacifica wipes the tears from her eyes, and tries to dry off the ones running down her face.

“I need to leave,” she tells her, voice sounding hollow. She starts to leave, but Mabel grabs her by the arm.

“Don’t go, Paz,” Mabel says, but Pacifica breaks her hold and starts backing away.

“I’m sorry but I,” she says, “I can’t see you anymore.” The tears have already started streaming down her face again, and Mabel can feel her own throat constricting.

“Paz-“

“If my parents find out,” she says, “they’ll send me to a conversion center or disinherit me or-“ She turns abruptly around, and starts to run away.

“Paz!” Mabel shouts, but Pacifica doesn’t turn back. Mabel keeps shouting her name, desperately, but the girl keeps running until Mabel can’t even see her anymore. Mabel considers following her, but ultimately decides against it. Pacifica will be back in a few days, and everything will blow over. _It just has to_ , Mabel thinks, though there’s a small, insidious part of her that’s afraid it never will.

At this point, Mabel doesn’t even care if Pacifica still wants to kiss her. She just wants the other girl to feel safe and come be their friend again. She hopes that it will be sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so you guys might have read the chapter that I wrote a few days ago that comes after this one and was originally the end. 
> 
> I'm making some revisions, and adding some more material to the end, so that chapter's going to be gone for awhile. I hope that you bear with me.


	9. In Which Mabel Starts Mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel doesn't know how to fix things, but she knows that she has to try. Starting with her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS FIC IS NOT DEAD I HAVE RETURNED
> 
> I really liked the alternating style that I had going on earlier in this story, but god I just couldn't sacrifice the way that this chapter was turning out for the sake of that minor detail. This wouldn't have had nearly the same impact in Dipper's POV. 
> 
> Also, I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter. In my current plan there's going to be one chapter after this that wraps up the main plot in gravity falls, and then an epilogue chapter.

Mabel stares at the ceiling. The ceiling, thankfully, does not grow a pair of eyes and start starring back. She wouldn’t exactly be surprised if it did, though. This is Gravity Falls, and weird, weird stuff happens here all the time. She became best friends with, fell in love with, and then lost her childhood nemesis all in the course of a couple of months. That’s something she couldn’t really imagine happening anywhere but here. She stares at the shapes in the wood, and sighs deeply. Mabel doesn’t know how to make this right.

She had thought that things would blow over. Paz would calm down, call her, and then they could all talk this out and things would magically get better. Things never magically get better. It’s been four days, and things haven’t blown over. Paz hasn’t called her, or dropped by. Dipper’s continued to sulk, and nothing seems like it’s going to get any better. Mabel doesn’t think that she can take any more of this.

Pacifica’s terrified that her parents will find out about her sexual orientation, and Dipper. Dipper knows. Dipper’s obviously hurting because of the breakup and the realization that Paz never liked him and never would. Dipper also has a tendency to hold grudges, and takes a great joy in revenge. Mabel knows that it’s awful to think that of him, but she can’t help but worry that he’ll tell someone. She can feel the worry gnawing away at her insides.

Mabel rips her eyes off of the ceiling, and looks to the sky outside of the window. The day is bright and sunny, and Mabel sighs loudly. She needs to make things right. She bounces backwards and forwards on the bed until she finally springs off of it. She doesn’t land gracefully, however, and ends up falling forward and stubbing her toe against her dresser.

“UGH POOP MONKEYS GOD UGH OUCH OW OW OW,” she shouts as she hops around, trying to prevent her toe from making contact with the ground. After a few minutes, she decides that it isn’t worth trying to protect her toe, and forces herself to limp on it. She’s so grateful that she doesn’t live in the attic anymore. Mabel plops down on the couch, and realizes that Dipper isn’t there. She plops down on the couch with a sigh, and takes out her phone.

“Dipper get your butt down here,” she texts. She hears _Disco Girl_ start playing upstairs, so she at least knows that he’s home.

“No,” he responds.

“If you don’t get down here I’m throwing your Mountain Pee out,” she threatens.

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE,” he responds.

“I would,” she lies. She wouldn’t really throw out his soda. It’s cheap and disgusting and looks like piss, but she’s not that evil. He paid money for that piss.

“FINE!” he texts, and she hears him angrily walking down the stairs. His hair’s a mess, and he’s still wearing his debate t-shirt and his lightsaber sleep pants. He stomps over to the kitchen, and checks to make sure that his two liter bottle is still in there. He takes a sip straight out of the bottle, because Dipper is gross and probably didn’t actually sleep last night. Either that or he’s been sleeping extra to avoid thinking about Paz. Neither one of them seem like particularly good options. He glares at her, and shoves the bottle back into the refrigerator.

“I wasn’t actually going to throw it out,” Mabel says, rolling her eyes, “I just wanted to talk.” His look softens a little.

“What is it?” he asks. 

“Paz,” she says as if that explains everything, but she knows that it doesn’t.  

“I already told you that I couldn’t tell you anything,” he says.

“I talked to her,” Mabel says, “she told me what happened.” Dipper doesn’t look like he knows what to say. That’s alright, because Mabel doesn’t know what to say either.  

“I’m gonna try to talk her today,” she continues.

“Again?” he asks.

“It didn’t go all that great the first time,” Mabel says.

“Alright?” Dipper asks, which really means _why are you telling me this?_ Mabel looks around the corner, tries to make sure that no one will barge in on them. She knows that the only person that might is Grunkle Stan, but she’d prefer to have this conversation completely in private.

“She’s terrified,” Mabel says, “her parents are really homophobic, Dip.” Dipper looks a bit concerned about this, but not as concerned as Mabel really wanted. Mabel’s never been subtle. Most people would probably say that she’s about as subtle as the moral in a bad kids’ movie, but Mabel’s gotten a little subtler over the years. She doesn’t just straight out ask Dipper if he would tell anyone (i.e. Pacifica’s parents).

“She’s really afraid that someone might _find out_ ,” Mabel says. Dipper sends her a confused look, and doesn’t say anything. Mabel waits for the message to sink in.

“What are you saying, Mabel?” Dipper asks.

“Well,” Mabel says, awkwardly, her face turning beat red, “we both know now, and it would be awful if anyone found out…” She’s trails off, completely unsure of how to gently accuse her brother of plotting to out Pacifica as revenge. Dipper’s not always the best at reading people, and Mabel realizes that she might have to be even more obvious to get her point across. Thankfully, her brother finally catches her drift.

“Mabel,” he asks, “do you…do you think that I would tell her parents?” He looks confused, almost angry at the suggestion. Mabel almost sighs in relief, but she has to be sure. If his and Paz’s breakup sent her back into the “enemy” category, then Mabel doesn’t know if Dipper would tell her parents. She honestly doesn’t.

“Would you?” she asks cautiously.

“I’m pissed at her, Mabes,” he says, “I’m not gonna lie, but she’s my _friend_. I mean really, Mabel. I wouldn't even tell _you._ ” He looks as though the very suggestion disgusts him, and Mabel breathes a sigh of relief at that. Then she bites her lip. She still has to tell him the other thing.

“Is there something else?” he asks, “you look worried.” Of fucking course she’s worried. Pacifica dated Dipper without ever liking him and then smashed his heart on the ground. And Mabel still likes her. That’s not really going to be an easy thing to explain. But she knows that she has to at this point. If she wants to leave the possibility open, she needs to get this out of the way. That doesn’t make her any more excited about it. Dipper waves his hands around in front of him.

“Earth to Mabel,” he says, “come in Mabel.”

“I-really-like-her,” Mabel blurts out nervously. Dipper sends her a confused look.

“I have no idea what you just said, Mabel,” he says, “was that gibberish?”

Mabel takes a deep breath, and focuses on talking slower as she says, “I really like Pacifica, Dipper.”  

“Of course you do,” he says, as if that’s obvious, “she’s your best friend.” Dipper has known that she’s pan for two years, but sometimes Mabel thinks that he forgets about the “liking girls” part, or at least overlooks it. Dipper’s very heteronormative that way.  

“I _like_ like Pacifica,” she says. Dipper’s lips make an O shape. He looks awkward and sweaty, and he doesn’t have any idea what to say. Mabel doesn’t really know what to say. Then he starts _laughing._ It’s not really happy laughter, but it isn’t as bitter as it could have been either.

“You’ve got a better chance with her than I do,” he says. Mabel takes a deep breath, and steels herself to ask the question.

“Is that you giving your blessing?” she asks.

“Come on,” he says, “we both know you, Mabel. If you two were to work out, you'd date her whether or not I was alright with it.”

“I just want to be her friend,” Mabel says. Dipper raises an eyebrow at her.

“You never just want to be friends,” Dipper says. He’s seen her chase boys and girls left and right, and after the relationships ended, none of the friendships remained. But Paz, Paz is _different_. They’ve all built something wonderful together. Something made of monster hunts, board games, inside jokes, and so much more. Mabel can’t imagine not having her in her life. Even if Mabel _never_ gets to be her girlfriend.

“If she likes me back, great,” Mabel says, “but. I just want her back. Even if it’s only ever as friends.” She’s wants more, and wants it desperately, but she won’t lose the other girl over it. Even if they don’t date, it can’t end up being harder than watching her “date” Dipper.

“Are you alright with that?” Mabel asks, “like if we did start dating. Would you be alright with that?” Dipper’s probably right. She would probably end up dating Paz if she liked her back, no matter what Dipper thought. But she would prefer to let Dipper know beforehand, and if possible, have him be alright with it. Fights with her brother are hellish, and they always make both of them feel and act like piles of stinky shit.

“It’s not like you’d be stealing her from me,” he says. It’s a joke, at least. It’s a little bit angry and a little bit bitter, but if Dipper were really angry or embarrassed he wouldn’t be joking about it. He’d have difficulty putting together coherent sentences and probably would be at least six times sweatier. This is a good sign.

 “Awkward sibling hug?” she asks. Dipper rolls his eyes, but in that way that’s fondly exasperated. He wraps his arms around her, and she wraps her arms around him. She does her mental countdown to the pats.

Three-two-one PAT PAT

“Will you talk to her too?” she asks.

“Probably,” he says, “but not for a while. I just- I don’t think that I’m ready for that.” Mabel nods. This must be awful for him, realizing that his first real relationship was built on lies and completely one-sided. Mabel bumps her shoulder against his, and smiles at him.

“You’re a real catch, you know,” Mabel says. He rolls his eyes, but Mabel’s not ready to stop.

“Any girls who likes boys would be lucky to have you,” she tells him. Dipper rolls his eyes at that.

“The straight girls are just falling at my feet,” he dead-pans.

“Candy thinks you’re cute,” Mabel mentions, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. Dipper’s face turns scarlet.

“It’s too soon for that,” he says.

“For what?” Mabel says, feigning innocence.

“The matchmaking junk!” he exclaims.

“I have no idea what you mean,” says Mabel, who most definitely knows what he means. Dipper doesn’t even bother to respond to that, and just rolls his eyes.

“You’re a majestic eagle,” she says.

“Mabel-“

“A diamond in the ruff, a Harrison Ford among men-“

“Harrison Ford’s like seventy now,” Dipper says.

“But he was really hot when he played Han Solo,” Mabel tells him.

“Okay let’s stop there,” Dipper says between laughs. Mabel lets it lie then, but she smiles at him. When she was avoiding Pacifica she was avoiding Dipper too, and she’s missed this like crazy. Dipper’s her best friend too. She grabs a poptart out of the cabinet and affectionately bops her brother on the head on her way back to her room.

“Aren’t you gonna go talk to her?” he asks.

“Nah,” Mabel says, “I’ve got something I’ve got to do first. Ttyl, bro bro.” He looks exasperated by her use of chat speak in a casual conversation, but Mabel’s closed the door before she can really think about it. She gathers up her knitting materials, and nearly has to tear apart her bedroom to find the item that she’s looking for. Eventually she finds it: the old, half-finished llama sweater, and she smiles as she takes it into her hands. She grabs her knitting needles and the rest of her yarn, and sets to work on it.  This is as good of a place as ever to start mending their friendship.


	10. Pacifica Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica has been holed up in her room, counting the days until her parents finally ship her back off to boarding school. Mabel shows up at her window and tries to fix things. And maybe create some new ones too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS!!!! okay, so this is the last chapter of the normal plot portion of this fic. THE PENULTIMATE INSTALLMENT!!!!! the next chapter will be an epilogue (I don't know how long or short it will be but it will exist) and it will be from Pacifica's POV. I hope that you all have enjoyed the fic so far!
> 
> fun fact: sometimes i make up words. Unball isn't a word, but I feel like it's descriptive and gets the point across. Don't use it in an academic paper.

There are some perks to becoming a friendless hermit with neglectful parents. Okay, so in general it’s just about the worst thing that’s ever happened to Pacifica, but at least it forces her to be productive. She hasn’t worked on anything that she really needs to do since before she fell in and fell out with the Pines twins. She has a ton of work to catch up on, and when she feels like nothing else matters, at least she can force herself to get it done. There's only a few more weeks until the end of summer. At least she can comfort herself with the knowledge that she'll be away from this hellhole in a little bit. Pacifica takes out her violin, and decides that practicing it will be a good way to burn some of the time away.

She plays _Danse Macabre_ , but decides that the song about dancing skeletons is actually too upbeat for the way that she’s feeling. The skeletons should be stationary and brooding in the same sort of dark, depressive heap that she is in right now. She takes out the music for _Ashokan Farewell_ instead, and starts playing that. It’s a song about saying goodbye to loved ones, to an entire era, and those are the sort of terrible emotions Pacifica feels like indulging in. She can’t escape them, so she might as well wallow. It’s probably not as productive as she was planning on being, but it doesn’t matter all that much. She doesn’t have anywhere to be or anything she has to do all summer.

After about playing until her arms hurt from bowing, Pacifica decides that it’s hot in the house. One of the great things about having obscenely wealthy parents that only bother to pay attention to her when she’s doing something they disapprove of is that Pacifica has free reign of the house and the thermostat. She turns the temperature down cold, which is a ridiculous thing to do in the summer, but she wants to curl up in her blankets and forget about the world.

She lies down on stomach on her bed and pulls the covers over her body. She lies the laptop over her pillow, and waits for the air conditioning to kick in. Then she’ll pull the comforter over her head, like a cozy little fort. She fills out scholarships and searches for cheap schools with good business programs that she can go to straight out of high school. She wants to get the fuck away from her parents as soon as possible, and the only way to do that is to plan ahead. She considers checking for schools in Piedmont, but is hit by a pang of remorse. She’s already burned both of those bridges. She pulls the comforter over her head, and tries to forget the world.

 

This works for a long time. It’s actually passed ten o’clock when she’s pulled out of her blanket-cocoon and back to reality. She hears a voice that she didn’t really expect to hear again. Mabel’s voice is ridiculously bouncy and overenthusiastic, just like always.

“Pazpunzel, Pazpunzel, let down your hair!” the words are muffled through the walls and the closed windows, but Pacifica can still hear them. Paz’s cheeks flush as she springs from her covers and runs to the window. She throws open the window, and Mabel grins at her from below.

“Hey Paz!” Mabel shouts.

“What are you doing here?” Pacifica hisses.

“I’m saving the fair maiden from the tower!” Mabel says, sounding highly pleased with herself. Pacifica’s heart does a stupid little somersault. She’s not completely convinced that this is actually happening, and that she didn’t end up falling asleep under the covers. She thinks that she might wake up under the covers in an hour or two, sadder than ever.

“Please come down,” Mabel adds.

“Mabel,” she says, “it’s pitch black out there. I’m not going gallivanting in the woods with you.” If this is real, than Pacifica can’t risk it. She can’t risk falling harder for Mabel, or her parents finding out. Pacifica can’t let them find out when she’s only a year away from getting away from them.

  
“Gallivanting?” Mabel asks, raising an eyebrow. The retort pulls Pacifica out of her thoughts.

“It sounds cool,” Pacifica claims, and Mabel laughs at that.

“Please, Pacifica,” Mabel asks, “just come down.” She shoots her grappling hook, and it settles on Pacifica’s window sill.

“Mabel-“

“Just please, Paz, let me talk to you,” Mabel implores.

“Alright,” Pacifica says, with a little sigh, “but I’m not using the grappling hook.” She can’t deny Mabel anything. Pacifica shoves her feet in a pair of shoes, and flies down the stairs. She exits through a side door closer to where Mabel is standing underneath her window. Mabel takes out her phone to use as a flashlight, and they walk a ways into the woods.

“Into the woods and don’t delay,” Mabel sings, loudly and off-key, “be careful not to lose the way.” Pacifica hums along as Mabel sings more of the song, and she stops when they find a spot Mabel seems to think is suitable for sitting. Mabel plops down in front of a tree, and Pacifica sits beside her. She’s in pajama pants anyways, and it doesn’t really matter if they get a little muddy. They aren’t like the designer jeans her mother buys her.

“Alright,” Pacifica says, cutting right to the chase, “what is it?”

“Would you believe that I just wanted to make up with you?” Mabel asks.

“No,” Pacifica says, “ I wouldn’t.” Mabel sighs, but she takes off her rainbow backpack. She unzips the pocket, and pulls out a large, fluffy _thing._ She clutches it for a moment, and tries to unball it. The thing unfurls and Pacifica can see that it’s one of Mabel’s fuzzy sweaters.

“I just,” Mabel says, nervously, “I just wanted to give you this.” She shoves it into Pacifica’s arms, and the other girl looks it over. It’s a fluffy white sweater with a yellow llama embroidered on it. It’s the mystery squad sweater that Mabel promised her when they defeated the gorgon. Pacifica feels tears prickling at her eyelashes.

“Mabel,” she says, “I don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t have to deserve friendship,” Mabel tells her. She sounds completely sincere in these words. This will only make everything harder.

“Mabel,” Pacifica says.

“Really, Paz,” she says, “I just wanted you to know I’m still here for you.” Pacifica laughs at that, a bitter little chuckle.

“You shouldn’t be,” Pacifica says.

“Paz-“

“Do you remember what I did to your brother?” Pacfica asks.

“Yeah,” Mabel says, as if the issue doesn’t even phase her, “it was a shitty thing to do, but I understand why you did it. I still want to be your friend.” Pacifica laughs at that, but the bitter little chuckle catches in her throat. This is exactly why she told Mabel she couldn’t see her in the first place. Mabel is too good for her, and Pacifica can’t risk her feelings growing even more potent. She’s already in love with the other girl, hanging around her won’t make it go away.

“I can’t _just_ be friends with you,” Pacifica says. Mabel’s face falls, the way that it used to when they were kids and Pacifica had insulted her. Pacifica feels a pang of guilt shoot through her. She has no fucking clue how to put this delicately. Or how to say it any other way either.

“What do you mean?” Mabel asks. It takes Pacifica a moment to find any words to describe her feelings.

“It hurts,” Pacifica says, “it hurts to be around you, but it hurts not be around you too.” The moonlight shines on Mabel’s face, giving Mabel’s eyes an almost amber sort of glow. She looks like an angel, and Pacifica’s about to stomp on her heart.

“Paz-“

“I think that I’m in love with you,” Pacifica says. The words sound trite, ridiculous even. Pacifica’s seventeen and inexperienced in every facet of life. There’s a part of her that thinks she doesn’t even know what love is, but she knows what she feels, and there aren’t all that many words for her to choose from. _Like_ like makes her sound like a child, attracted to sounds too sexual, and fancy sounds pretentious to everyone who isn’t a Brit. There are only so many ways to express romantic attraction in the English language, and Pacifica settles on the strongest word because these are the strongest feelings she’s ever had. If Pacifica has ever loved anyone in her life, it’s been Mabel Pines.

“That’s why I can’t be around you,” Pacifica says, looking up at the stars instead of at Mabel’s face.

“You can’t see me… because you love me?” Mabel asks, sounding more confused than ever.

“Yes,” Pacifica says. Mabel doesn’t love her back, and even if she did, Pacifica couldn’t be with her. If her parents found out, it would mean they would ship Pacifica off to a _conversion center_. And Pacifica’s not sure if they would discover her hidden assets. If they do and they liquidate them before she turns eighteen, she doubts ever be able to claw her way away from them. Either way, Pacifica would damn herself if she stayed around Mabel. She can’t risk her entire future; she just has to smother her feelings. She has to hold a pillow over their mouths until they crumple up and die.

“Paz,” Mabel says, with a bright levity to her tone, “I love you too.” Pacifica’s breath hitches in her throat, and her heart warms. There were only two answers that Mabel could have given: _I love you_ or _I don’t feel the same way_ , but somehow it still surprises her. Paz will never stop being surprised that Mabel could like her back, let alone love her.

“We can’t be together,” Pacifica says, even though her heart is beating a million miles a minute and she feels like she’s floating.

“What?” Mabel asks. Pacifica bets that Mabel thinks she didn’t hear her right.

“We can’t be together,” Pacifica repeats, her voice cracking slightly. Mabel’s face falls when she hears the words again. Pacifica turns her back to Mabel, and looks off into the forest instead. She can’t watch as she breaks Mabel’s heart.

“Why Paz?” Mabel demands. She’s not going to take this sitting down, quite literally. Mabel scoots her butt over and around Pacifica and meets her eyes.

“My parents,” Pacifica says, “you know what they’ll do if they find out.” Pacifica knows that she can’t handle that. She’s so close to getting away from them. She can’t give them an excuse to do that to her.

“I won’t let you go through life alone,” Mabel tells her, taking Pacifica’s hand in hers.

“But my parents,” Pacifica protests. She lets go of Mabel’s hand. The other girl looks hurt by the gesture, but Pacifica can’t encourage her. Pacifica knows what will happen if they find out, and she’s terrified of it. She’s more scarred of that than she is of not having this with Mabel.

“They don’t have to know,” Mabel says.

“They’ll find out,” Pacifica says, starring out into the forest, “they always find out.”

“But what if they don’t?” Mabel asks.

  
“They will,” Pacifica asserts. Mabel sighs, but acquiesces. She tries a different tactic.

“They can’t do that to you,” Mabel says, “it has to be illegal or something.”

“Completely legal,” Pacifica says bitterly, “I’ve read everything I could about it.”

“Well, we can get it changed. I’ll take those poop heads to court or something,” Mabel says, and Pacifica manages a panicked giggle.

“They can hire the best lawyer in the country,” Pacifica says, “and then they could buy the judge, the jury, _and_ the courtroom.”

“Alright,” Mabel says, “so we don’t let it get to that point. We make sure that they don’t find out.”

“They _always_ find out,” Pacifica asserts again. They found out about her last girlfriend, Sophie, even though Pacifica’s boarding school was in _Maryland._

“They aren’t ever around, are they?” Mabel asks, “Wouldn’t that mean you’re pretty safe in Gravity Falls?”

“Well, yes,” Pacifica says, “but someone might rat on us.” Pacifica never found out who ratted on Sophie and her at her boarding school, because she hadn’t been around long enough after that. She isn’t sure what she would have done if she found the person, but Pacifica doesn’t think that there’s any worse thing you can do to a person than to shout their secrets to the world.

“So we only hang out in the woods or at the Shack,” Mabel suggests, “no rats there.”

“Actually,” Pacifica says, “I’m like ninety percent sure I saw a rat scurry across the floor at the Shack one time.”

“Oh that’s just Steve,” Mabel says, “he’s Dipper and I’s wise animal guide.” Pacifica sends her a look that just screams _what the fuck?_

“I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried,” Mabel tells her. Pacifica smiles at the ridiculousness of the situation. It feels so much like everything did at the beginning of the summer, before everything became so terribly complicated. Pacifica can’t stay in that mindset forever, though, and gets back to the problem at hand.

“What about Dipper?” Pacifica asks, cautiously. She feels awful and guilty for even bringing it up, but Pacifica remembers how much Dipper likes revenge. When they were young, Dipper went out of his way to make sure Pacifica knew that her family name and fortune were built on deceit. Dipper Pines delights in revenge, and Pacifica hurt him badly. She’s not sure that she trusts him not to take revenge again.

“Dipper won’t do anything,” Mabel assures her.

“How do you know?” Pacifica asks, her voice cracking slightly. She has to know for certain that Dipper won’t rat on them first. Maybe he’s not even planning on it yet, but if Pacifica suddenly starts making out with his sister, she thinks that he’ll be a hell of a lot more likely to consider it.

“I talked to him,” Mabel says, “about everything.”

  
“Everything?” Pacifica asks, “even… _this_?”

“Even this,” Mabel assures her, “he promised he wouldn’t tell. He seemed disgusted that I would even suggest such a thing.” Pacifica feels a surge of affection for the other boy. She never liked him romantically, but he’s been a great friend. She regrets how things went with him.

“What about when I go off to school?” Pacifica asks.

“We’ll just skype and text and stuff,” Mabel says, “none of your dorm mates will think that’s suspicious.” Pacifica can feel her heart beating in her chest like a humming bird on speed. _This could work_ , she thinks, excitement crashing across her like a tidal wave.

“Do you really want to do this?” Pacifica asks.

“That depends on what it is we’re doing,” Mabel says coyly.

“Be girlfriends,” Pacifica says, “hold hands, kiss, watch bad movies together-“ Pacifica could list off a list of a million other things G-rated to X-rated that she’d like to do with Mabel, but she decides to cut the list off there. Mabel’s face lights up like a disco ball.

“Yes,” Mabel assures her, taking her hand, “definitely. Absolutely.” Pacifica laughs at the reference, but she can feel tears of joy prickling at her eyelashes. Even with Sophie, she’d never loved like this; she’d never felt loved like this. Pacifica thinks that this is the way that things are supposed to be. This is what love is supposed to feel like.

Pacifica leans her head against Mabel’s taller shoulder, and the other girl moves her head slightly, kissing her on the cheek. Pacifica blushes scarlet. She’s grateful that the sky is entirely black, except for the glowing white stars specked across it and the waxing moon.

“We can make this work,” Mabel tells her, and she squeezes her hand. For the first time, Pacifica believes her.

They sit together in the darkness and the sanctity of the woods. Pacifica’s head lies on Mabel’s shoulder, Mabel’s arm is wrapped around Pacifica’s back. The stars twinkle at them from light years away, giving a faint light to their moment in the forest. The fuzzy sweater lies half on Pacifica’s lap and half in Mabel’s, and their hands are intertwined on top of it. Mabel squeezes her hand a little tighter, and moves her head slightly to smile over at Pacifica. Pacifica smiles back, and it feels like a promise. It feels like forever.

In the darkness of the forest, Pacifica lets herself hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HAPPIER LOOK IT'S GETTING HAPPIER!!!!!


	11. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which they edge closer to happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the last chapter of this fic. i'm so proud of it! i've been writing this fic since september, and i'm actually really proud of myself for finishing it! the only big long multichapter fic that i've finished in the past had more of an episodic format and the format was based HEAVILY on the structure of the first season of the new doctor who. 
> 
> this is the first long fic that i've ever written that was completely my own creation, and i'm so proud of this baby of mine. it's grown into something that i'm really proud of and i don't regret a moment that i spent writing it. 
> 
> i hope that you guys have enjoyed the ride as much as i have! thank you so much for the comments and support, and if you could leave me one final comment as a send off to the fic, i would really appreciate it. 
> 
> YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!!!

Pacifica has been preparing to get the hell away from her parents for her entire senior year of high school. She turned eighteen in December, finally becoming a legal adult, but she had to continue to attend her boarding school until she graduated. Her parents come to the ceremony because they have to, and immediately start discussing high end colleges they want to send her to and possible suitors, and Pacifica nods her head because she can’t tell them any differently. She can’t tell them that she already has the rest of her year planned out, and that it doesn’t include doing anything her parents want her to do.

 

Her parents leave on an extended business trip a few days later, and Pacifica breaths a loud sigh of relief the moment that they leave. Now Pacifica can finally leave this hellhole. Leaving, of course, is a long, semi-complicated and semi-extensive process. Pacifica paid the extra money so that she could move into the dorms at Piedmont Community College early, but there’s still the small matter of getting there.

First, she has to walk halfway across town to the Mystery Shack where she parked the shitty old Ford Explorer that she bought with her own money during Christmas break. Pacifica knew that she couldn’t leave with anything that her parents technically owned for a plethora of reasons, so she had to purchase a working vehicle from Gleeful. She had to shell out a bit more to guarantee that the man wouldn’t tell her parents, and then ask for Stan’s permission to park the damn thing over by the Shack.

 

That was probably the easiest part of the whole ordeal, because Stan would never deny Mabel anything. And getting Pacifica away from her parents has been Mabel’s main goal since last summer. They’re almost there now. Pacifica grabs the keys to the Explorer, and starts the walk over to the Mystery Shack. Honestly, no walk in Gravity Falls is all that bad. A town of just over three thousand people doesn’t take up all that much space, and Northwest Manor is actually on the same extreme end of town as the Shack. Her parents always complained about having to put up with that tourist just a mile away from their mansion, but Pacifica has really appreciated it this past year. It has made her life way easier.

Pacifica finally gets to the Shack, and she supposes that she could just take the vehicle and go. She has the keys, and she doesn’t _have_ to say anything to Stan. Pacifica, however, has spent her whole life taking things for granted. She doesn’t really want to take this for granted too.

 

Pacifica knocks on the door, and is greeted to the sight of a lot more of Stan Pines than she ever really wanted to see. He’s in his boxer shorts, a tight white tank top and he looks like he has just crawled out of bed. He doesn’t really seem embarrassed by this, though.  

“Um,” he says, “hi Pacifica.” His voice is as gruff as always, but he sounds a little surprised.

“I was just gonna take my car,” Pacifica says.

He nods his head, and says, “Yeah. Of course.”  

“Thanks Mr. Pines,” Pacifica says. She’s still not all that great at showing her emotions, or thanking people. She’s not really all that great at interacting with people in general, but she’s trying.

“I let you park a car here, kid,” Stan says, “I didn’t pay for your college.” Pacifica laughs at that, because it’s such a Stan thing to do. To act like what he did didn’t matter at all.

“No,” she says, “it really did help. I appreciate it.” Stan smiles at, and it’s the sort of smile that she’s only ever seen him send Mabel or Dipper. It warms up her whole body.

"Drive safe,” he tells her.

“I will,” she promises, and she means it. She won’t drive recklessly when she has so much on the line. This is just the beginning of her real life. She walks off the porch, and gets into the car. She starts up the vehicle, and drives over to Northwest Manor, parking it in the grass right in front of the door that’s closest to her room. Pacifica hurries up the stairs, and into her room. She strips the bed, and shoves the bedding into a box along with some of her clothes. She hauls as much of her stuff as she can out to her car, and stuffs the trunk, the backseat and the front seat full. She’s going to get out of this house with as much stuff as possible, and make sure that she has everything that she might possibly need.

Once Pacifica is satisfied with her packing job, she goes into the kitchen to write her farewell. She pulls out a sheet of notebook paper out of an entire drawer filled with the stuff. Then she grabs a pen, and writes out the note. She tapes it to the biggest refrigerator in the kitchen.

It reads, “I’m leaving and I’m not coming back.

-Pacifica”

 

Pacifica doesn’t want them to know where she’s gone, and doesn’t really think that they deserve to know either. They do, however, deserve to at least have closure, to know that Pacifica left of her own accord and doesn’t plan on coming back. When they finally come back from their trip in a few days, they’ll be greeted by the note and Pacifica will be miles away. She picks up her phone, and dials Mabel.

“Paz!” Mabel says happily after she picks up the phone.

“I’m all packed, Mabes,” she says, “I’m on my way to Piedmont.” Mabel squeals on the other end of the line, which Pacifica assumes is a good thing.

“I can move into the dorm tonight,” Pacifica says.

“No,” Mabel says, “you have to stay with us tonight!” Pacifica’s heart does a somersault.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Mabel says, “why wouldn’t I want you to stay with us?”

“Is it alright with your parents?” Pacifica asks. She really doesn't want to show up on Mabel's doorstep without her parents knowing beforehand. 

“Let me check,” Mabel says, and Pacifica groans.

“Can Paz stay the night tonight!” Mabel shouts, but the sound is muffled through the phone.

“Of course!” a woman’s voice calls back.

She hears Mabel start to celebrate, before the woman that Pacifica assumes to be Mabel’s mother adds, “But she’ll have to stay in the guest room!”

“But mom-“

“No buts Mabel,” the woman says, and Mabel sighs loudly.

She puts the phone back to her ear, and says, “Yeah, you can stay here.”

“Alright,” Pacifica says, and she almost goes to hang up.

“Wait,” she says, “what’s your address?” Mabel giggles, and she rambles off the address. Pacifica then realizes that there’s no way that she’s going to remember it.

“Could you just text it to me when I hang up?” Pacifica asks.

“Yep,” Mabel says, popping the p.

“Alright,” Pacifica says, “that sounds great- fantastic.” She doesn’t really want to hang up, but Pacifica knows that she will have to. She can’t talk to Mabel for the whole drive or she’ll be terribly distracted. She does want to actually  _get_ to Piedmont. 

“Bye, Mabel,” Pacifica says.

“See you soon, Paz,” Mabel says with a smile in her voice. Mabel hangs up the phone. Then a few moments later, Paz's phone vibrates as the text with Mabel’s address comes through. Pacifica smiles, and she sets her phone down. Then she starts up her vehicle, and starts to drive. She won’t be to Piedmont until at least seven o’clock, assuming that she makes no stops. Pacifica realizes that she had better get moving, and she hits the gas. She’s getting the hell out of here, and she’s going to be with Mabel. Life is pretty good.

 

The drive, along with stops for food, takes nearly ten hours. Pacifica has never driven for such a long period of time.

When Pacifica gets to the house that she thinks is Mabel's, she goes up to the door. The only reason she's positive that she’s at the right house is because the Pines family has a big limestone with their last name written on it. Their last name is flanked by cartoon pines trees. Then she knocks on the door. Mabel opens it up a moment later, and her eyes widen as her face lights up.

Her girlfriend engulfs her in a hug as she shouts, "PAZ!" 

"It's good to see you too, Mabes," Pacifica says, giggling a little. Mabel holds her tightly, as if she's afraid that Pacifica will disappear if she lets go. Pacifica hugs her tightly back, to remind herself that Mabel's here, and so is she. They're together here in Piedmont. Pacifica hears the sound of someone going down the stairs.

Mabel's eyes widen, and she shouts, "“Dipper, get over here!” Pacifica peaks out from underneath Mabel’s arms, and spots the other boy walking over. He rolls his eyes, but he still answers Mabel's call. Dipper’s grown, and has stopped shaving the little bit of stubble that he has managed to acquire. He inserts himself into the puddle of hugs too.

“It’s good to see you, Pacifica,” he says. It doesn’t even sound angry or forced. They’ve been talking over skype for the last few months, rebuilding what they had into an actual, healthy friendship. It’s good to see that they’ve actually made progress.

“I missed you, Dip,” she says.

Dipper snorts, and says, “Sure you did.” But it doesn’t sound bitter, which lifts Pacifica’s spirits. Maybe soon they will be able to have the great friendship together that Pacifica always wanted. The hug goes on a few more moments, and then Mabel shoves the rest of them off of her.

“Shoo brother,” Mabel says, in that sort of bossy tone that Pacifica finds annoying coming from anyone but her, “give us a moment alone.”

“Fine,” Dipper says, “but I’m getting mom. She can’t wait to meet your girlfriend.” Pacifica blushes bright red and Mabel smiles at her. It doesn’t take five seconds for Mabel to hug her again.

“Welcome to the family,” Mabel murmurs in her ear, nuzzling into Pacifica’s hair. Pacifica’s never had a family, not really. Her parents were distant at best, and awful to her at worst. She didn’t feel one bit of guilt leaving them forever. But she feels something warm flow through her at the thought of being Mabel’s family, of being Dipper’s family. She likes the idea, and maybe, just maybe, this could be her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all folks

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You're The Empire and The Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682277) by [titaniumsansa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniumsansa/pseuds/titaniumsansa)




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